Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South AmericaRay, George Whitfield
Religion
Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South America
Ray, George Whitfield
Ray, George Whitfield, 1868- -- Travel -- South America; South America -- Description and travel
The forests are full of birds and beasts in infinite variety, as also
of those creatures which seem neither bird nor beast. There are large
black howling monkeys, and little black-faced ones with prehensile
tails, by means of which they swing in mid-air or jump from tree to
tree in sheer lightness of heart. There is also the sloth, which, as
its name implies, is painfully deliberate in its motions. Were I a
Scotchman I should say that "I dinna think that in a' nature there is a
mair curiouser cratur." Sidney Smith's summary of this strange animal
is that it moves suspended, rests suspended, sleeps suspended, and
passes its whole life in suspense. This latter state may also aptly
describe the condition of the traveller in those regions; for man,
brave though he may be, does not relish a _vis-á-vis_ with the enormous
anaconda, also to be seen there at most inconvenient times. I was able
to procure the skins of two of these giant serpents.
The leader of the "forest gang," a Paraguayan, wore round his neck a
cotton scapular bought from the priest before he started on the
expedition. This was supposed to save him from all dangers, seen and
unseen. Poor man, he was a good Roman Catholic, and often counted his
beads, but he was an inveterate liar and thief.
Taking into consideration the wild country, and the adventurous mission
which had brought us together, our men were not at all a bad class. One
of them, however, a black Brazilian, used to boast at times that _he
had killed his father while he slept._ In the quiet of the evening hour
he would relate the story with unnatural gusto.
We generally slept on the deck of the steamer, each under a thin
netting, while the millions of mosquitos buzzed outside--and inside
when they could steal a march. Mosquitos? Why _"mosquitos á la Paris"_
was one of the items on our menu one day. The course was not altogether
an imaginary one either. Having the good fortune to possess candles, I
used sometimes to read under my gauzy canopy. This would soon become so
black with insects of all descriptions as to shut out from my sight the
outside world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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