The Mighty Orinoco

Chapter IV First Encounter

39 chapter IV First Encounter Las Bonitas is the base of operation for the military governor over the Caura region and the lands irrigated by this important tributary . The village is on the river’s right bank, almost at the site formerly held by the Spanish mission of Altagracia. The missionaries were the original discoverers of these Latin American provinces, and they were intolerant of competing e¬orts by the British, Germans, and French to convert the wild Indians of the interior. Consequently, rivalries between these factions are still a source of concern. At that time the military governor was present in Las Bonitas. He was personally acquainted with M. Miguel and had heard about the geographer ’s expedition up the Orinoco. So, when the steamer docked, he went on board. M. Miguel introduced his two friends to the governor. There was a hearty exchange of civilities between the various parties, including an invitation to lunch the next day in the governor’s quarters. This was promptly accepted, since the Simón Bolívar’s layover would extend to one o’clock in the afternoon. This meant, in short, that if the steamboat left at that hour, she would have enough time to reach Caicara the same evening, where she would say good-bye to those passengers who were not continuing to San Fernando or other towns in the province of Apure. So the next day, August 15, our three colleagues from the Geographic Society set out for the governor’s home. But ahead of them Jean and Sergeant Martial were already strolling down the streets of Las Bonitas, the sergeant having given in to his nephew and decreed that the two of them could go ashore. In this part of Venezuela, most communities barely deserve the name of village—they are just a few scattered huts hiding beneath the lush tropical greenery. Gorgeous trees were bunched together here and there, attesting to the nutritive power of the soil: evergreen oaks with coarse, pungent leaves and crooked trunks like an olive tree’s, 40 copernica palms with branches growing in clusters and spreading out from their stems like fans, mauritia palms that produce the kind of terrain known locally as morichal, or marshland, because this tree can suck so much water from the earth that the soil at its foot turns into mud. Plus there were copaiba trees, saurans, and giant mimosas with wide boughs full of fine-textured, pinkish leaves. Jean and Sergeant Martial plunged into the midst of these palm groves, which nature had organized into groups of five each, then through some riotous undergrowth where stylish bouquets of fetchingly colored poppies grew by the thousands. Up in the trees, hordes of monkeys were romping about like trapeze artists. They are plentiful in these Venezuelan regions, numbering no less than sixteen harmless but noisy species, among others those known locally as aluates or araguatos—howler monkeys—whose voices terrify newcomers to these tropical forests. Hosts of birds were hopping from branch to branch: orioles, who made up the tenor section of this airborne chorus—roosters of the swamps, delightfully suave, seductive creatures whose nests hang from the ends of long vines; then there were a number of oilbirds hiding out in nooks and crannies, waiting for nightfall—they are fruit eaters, and they dart through the treetops as if propelled by a spring. When they were deep into this palm grove, Sergeant Martial said, “I should’ve brought my gun!” “Why?” Jean asked. “You want to hunt monkeys?” “No, not monkeys. But, there might be nastier critters around!” “Don’t worry, uncle! We’d have to go a good way out of town to run into anything dangerous—but maybe later on we’ll need a weapon.” “Makes no di¬erence! A soldier should never go out unarmed, and I deserve a night in the guardhouse!” Sergeant Martial did not have to do penance for this breach of discipline . The fact is that members of the feline family, big or small, whether jaguars, tigers, lions, ocelots, or pussycats, all elected to stay far away in the dense jungles upriver. Was there any risk of running into bears?1 A little, but those flat-footed beasts live on fish or honey and have an easygoing disposition. As for the two-toed sloths (Bradypus didactylus), they are sorry creatures, not a threat to anybody. During their stroll Sergeant Martial spotted only a few bashful rodents , among others some capybaras, plus...