Thus then we see the great _Mar de la Parima_, (which it was so difficult to remove from our maps, that even after my return from America it was still supposed to be 160 miles in length,) reduced by recent investigations to the lake of Amucu, measuring only two or three miles in circumference. The illusions entertained for nearly two hundred years, and which in the last Spanish expedition, in 1775, for the discovery of El Dorado, cost several hundred lives, have finally terminated by enriching geography with some few results. In the year 1512 thousands of soldiers perished in the expedition, undertaken by Ponce de Leon, to discover the “Fountain of Youth,” on one of the Bahama Islands, called Binimi, which is hardly to be found on any of our maps. This expedition led to the conquest of Florida, and to the knowledge of the great oceanic current, or gulf-stream, which flows through the Straights of Bahama. The thirst after gold, and the desire of rejuvenescence—the _Dorado_ and the _Fountain of Youth_—stimulated, to an almost equal extent, the passions of mankind. Footnote 62: p. 161—“_The Piriguao, one of the noblest forms of the Palm_.” Compare Humboldt, Bonpland, and Kunth, _Nova Genera Plantarum_, and _Plant. æquinoct._, t. i. p. 315. Footnote 63: p. 171—“_The grave of an extinct race_.” During my stay in the forests of the Orinoco, researches were being made, by royal command, in reference to these bone-caves. The missionary of the cataracts had been falsely accused of having discovered in these caves treasures which the Jesuits had concealed there prior to their flight. Footnote 64: p. 172—“_When his language perished with him_.” The parrot of the Atures has been made the subject of a charming poem by my friend Professor Ernst Curtius, the tutor of the promising young Prince Friedrick Wilhelm of Prussia. The author will forgive me for closing the present section of the “Views of Nature” with this poem, which was not designed for publication, and was communicated to me by letter. THE PARROT OF ATURES. Where, through deserts wild and dreary, Orinoco dashes on, Sits a Parrot old and weary, Like a sculptur’d thing of stone. Through its rocky barriers flowing, Onward rolls the foaming stream; Waving palms on high are glowing In the sun’s meridian beam. Ceaselessly the waves are heaving, Sparkling up in antic play; While the sunny rays are weaving Rainbows in the feathery spray. Where yon billows wild are breaking, Sleeps a tribe for evermore, Who, their native land forsaking, Refuge sought on this lone shore.