Travelers know by experience that views from the summits of high mountains are neither as beautiful, picturesque, nor as varied as those from the heights of Vesuvius, Righi or the Poy-de-Dôme. Colossal mountains such as Chimborazo, Antisana or Monte Rosa compose such a huge mass that the richly cultivated plains are seen only at a great distance where a bluish and watery tint spreads over the landscape. The Tenerife peak, due to its narrow shape and local position, combines the advantages of the less high summits with those of the very high. From its top we can see not only the sea to the horizon, but also the forests of Tenerife and the inhabited coastal strips, which seem so close that their shapes and tones stand out in beautiful contrasts. It could be said that the volcano crushes the little island that serves as its base, and that it shoots up from the depths of the seas to a height three times higher than cloud level in summer.

When we reached the Piton's summit we were surprised to find that there was barely enough room to sit down comfortably. We faced a small circular wall of porphyritic lava, with a base of pitchstone, which prevented us from seeing the interior of the crater called La Caldera or the Cauldron. The wind blew so hard from the west that we could scarcely stand on our feet. It was eight in the morning and we were frozen though the temperature was just above freezing-point. We had become accustomed to heat, and the dry wind increased the sensation of cold.

The old Indian called 'master of the poison' was flattered by our interest in his chemical procedures. He found us intelligent enough to think that we could make soap; for making soap, after making curare, seemed to him the greatest of human inventions. Once the poison was poured into its jars, we accompanied the Indian to the juvias fiesta. They were celebrating the Brazil-nut harvest, and became wildly drunk. The hut where the Indians had gathered over several days was the strangest sight you could imagine. Inside there were no tables or benches, only large smoked and roasted monkeys lined up symmetrically against the wall. These were marimondas (Ateles belzebuth) and the bearded capuchins. The way these animals, which look so like human beings, are roasted helps you understand why civilized people find eating them so repulsive. A little grill made of a hard wood is raised about a foot from the ground. The skinned monkey is placed on top in a sitting position so that he is held up by his long thin hands; sometimes the hands are crossed over his shoulders. Once it is fixed to the grill a fire is lit underneath; flames and smoke cover the monkey, which is roasted and smoked at the same time. Seems Indians eat a leg or arm of a roasted monkey makes you realize why cannibalism is not so repugnant to Indians. Roasted monkeys especially those with very round heads, look horribly like children. Europeans who are forced to eat them prefer to cut off the head and hands before serving up the rest of the monkey The flesh of the monkey is so lean and dry that Bonpland kept an arm and a hand, roasted in Esmeralda, in his Paris collections. After many years it did not smell in the least.

Red paint is - we could say - the only clothing the Indians use. Two kinds may be distinguished according to how prosperous they are. The common decoration of the Caribs, Otomacs and Yaruros is annatto, which Spaniards call achote. It is the coloring matter extracted from the pulp of Bixa orellana. To prepare this annatto Indian women throw the seeds of the plant into a tub filled with water. They beat this for an hour and then leave the mixture to deposit the coloring fecula, which is an intense brick-red. After pouring off the water they take out the fecula, dry it in their hands and mix it with turtle oil, after which it is shaped into rounded cakes. Another more precious pigment comes from a plant of the Bignoniaceae family, which Bonpland has made known by the name Bignonia chica. It climbs up the tallest trees by attaching its tendrils. Its bilabiate flowers are an inch long and of a pretty violet color. The fruit is a pod filled with winged seeds, some 2 feet long. This bignonia grows wild and abundantly near Maypures. The red chica dye does not come from the fruit but from the leaves when soaked in water. The coloring matter separates itself as a light powder. It is gathered, without being mixed with turtle oil, into little loaves. When heated they give off a pleasant smell of benzoin. Chica, which was not known until our voyage, could even be used in the arts. The chemistry practiced by the savage is essentially the preparation of pigments and poisons, and the neutralization of amylaceous roots.

In the cool of dawn we set off to climb the Turimiquiri. This is the name given to the Cocollar peak, which forms one large mountain range with the Brigantín, called before by the Indians Sierra de los Tageres. We traveled a part of the way on the horses that run free on the savannahs, but are used to being saddled. Even when they look heavily laden they climb the slipperiest slopes with ease. Wherever the sandstone appears above ground the land is even and forms small plateaux succeeding each other like steps. Up to 700 feet, and even further, the mountain is covered with grass. On the Cocollar the short turf begins to grow some 350 toises above sea-level, and you continue to walk on this grass up to 1, toises high; above those strips of grassy land you find, on virtually inaccessible peaks, a little forest of cedrela, javillo (Hura crepitans) and mahogany. Judging by local conditions, the mountainous savannahs of the Cocollar and Turimiquiri owe their existence to the destructive custom of Indians burning the woods to make pasture land. Today, after a thick tangle of grass and alpine plants have been covering the ground for over three centuries, seeds of trees cannot root themselves in the ground and germinate, despite the wind and the birds that continually bring them from the distant jungle.

In the Turbaco forest, full of palm trees, there is a clearing about 800 square feet in size without any vegetation, bordered by tufts of Bromelia kavatas, whose leaf is like a pineapple's. The surface of the ground was composed of layers of cracked grey-black clay. What they call volcancitos are fifteen to twenty small truncated cones rising in the middle of the clearing. They are some 3 to 4 toises high. The high edges are filled with water and they periodically release large air bubbles. I counted five explosions in two minutes. The force of the rising air makes you think of a powerful pressure deep in the earth. Indian children who came with us helped us block some of the smaller craters with clay, but : gas always pushed the earth away. According to the Indians the number and shape of the cones near the path had not changed for over twenty years, and they remain full of water even in droughts. The heat of the water was the same as that of the air. With long sticks we could reach some 6 to 7 feet down inside a cone. Leaving the water in a glass it became quite clear, and tasted slightly of alum.

The rivalry between Spain and Portugal has contributed to the poor geographical knowledge about the tributary rivers of the Amazon. The Indians are excellent geographers and can outflank the enemy despite the limits on the maps and the forts. Each side prefers to conceal what it knows, and the love of what ii mysterious, so common among ignorant people perpetuates doubt. It is also known that different Indian tribes in this labyrinth of rivers give rivers different names that all mean 'river', 'great water' and 'current'. I have often been puzzled trying to determine synonyms after examining the most intelligent Indians through an interpreter. Three or four languages are spoken in the same mission, it is hard to make witnesses agree. Our maps are full of arbitrary names. The desire to leave no void in maps in order to give them an appearance of accuracy has caused rivers to be created whose names are not synonymous. (114)