Maldonado, who at heart was a rogue of the same stamp as Marcelino, having tasted of the independent roving life of the bandit, found it so congenial that he concluded to follow the illustrious example of his former leader and associate; but wanting in the principal traits which had raised the latter to his exalted position, was speedily destroyed and almost precisely in the same manner which he had devised for the overthrow of the renowned Marcelino. Previous to this, however, Maldonado, in imitation of his former chieftain, and availing himself of the defenceless state of the town of Guasdualito, attempted to carry off from thence la Villafañe, a lady celebrated for her beauty. With this intent, he brought to her door a horse already saddled for her, and commanded her to mount and follow him. This she indignantly refused to do; but finding all entreaties and resistance of no avail, she seized some poison from a drawer at hand, and with resolution worthy of a Roman matron, placed it to her lips, exclaiming, as she did so, that she would surely swallow it if he did not instantly quit her presence. The threat proved successful; for the bandit, awed by her heroism, left her.

The business of the pampas required us to be up at the first peep of dawn. A cup of coffee and milk, mixed with ground parched corn—which I would recommend to all travellers on long journeys of this sort—served us until breakfast time. I amused myself during the day sketching in company with my friend, Mr. Thomas, while the men made their preparations for a grand hunt among the cattle of the estate. The most important of these arrangements was that of manufacturing from hides sufficient lazos for the sport. There is a marked difference between the skins of bullocks raised in the shady parts of the Llanos and those roaming wild over the deserts of the Apure. Although the former are much thicker, the lazos made from the hides of cattle constantly exposed to the sun’s rays are infinitely stronger. The lazo is easily made. A fresh hide, spread upon the ground with the hair downward, is neatly cut into a long strap two inches wide. This is twisted into a tight thong and stretched out to dry between two posts, after which it is well rubbed with fat. When thoroughly dried, a loop is made at one end; through this, when required for use, the thong is passed, forming the noose or lazo proper, while the other end is firmly tied to the horse’s tail, using its long hair for the purpose. In other parts of South America they fasten the lazo to a ring in the saddle; but this arrangement, besides causing too great strain upon the horse’s back, is fraught with danger to the rider in case of a recoil from the thong if a break occur. The thorough training which horses receive in the Llanos is invaluable in such cases, as not only does the success of the chase depend on the readiness with which he obeys his rider, but even after the game is secured with the lazo, it is necessary that the horse should range instantly on a line with the struggling victim; but unless this is effected before the strain comes upon the lazo, the horse and his rider are inevitably overthrown. The hunter, at the moment of using the lazo, coils a portion of the thong, which he holds with his left hand, and with the rest forms the running noose, which is repeatedly whirled around his head to keep it open. When within reach of his mark, he aims at the animal’s head and throws the noose in such a manner as to cause a rapid uncoiling of the thong in his left hand. Some Llaneros are so expert as to entangle at the same instant the feet and head of the animal, on which he is quickly brought to the ground.

We were joined at El Frio by another party of cattle hunters, under the leadership of an old acquaintance, Colonel Castejon, widely celebrated in the Llanos for great bravery and skill in the pursuits of the country. He came to help us in the hunt after wild cattle, and to help himself to as many animals as he could drive home with his party. We also had the honor of a visit from the Governor of the Province, Señor Arciniega, a jovial, talkative, and well-informed functionary, and the most accomplished marksman of the Apure. It was therefore proposed to have a grand shooting match in the open field, and with this view we all started one morning for a creek called Macanillal, about three miles distant, intending to use the crocodiles, by far the most difficult animal to shoot, as targets. On entering the woody banks of the creek, we were agreeably surprised to discover on the soft mud evident proofs that we had come in the right direction, not only for our anticipated sport with the water monsters, but also that we were likely to have a brush with even a more formidable antagonist—the jaguar. Footprints of this splendid animal were so numerous, that we forgot for a time the crocodiles and made diligent search for the nobler game. We had small success, however, having no dogs with us to drive him from the jungle; for, unless he has the advantage over his adversaries, the jaguar never shows himself in the day-time.

As we came in sight of the water, I was astonished at seeing its whole surface bubbling as if in a state of effervescence, and at finding also on nearer inspection that this was occasioned by the blowing close to the water’s surface of millions of coporos. Other varieties of fish were also so abundant, that we shot many near the shore, among them a very fine catfish.

The report of the guns brought to the surface numbers of crocodiles, which we prepared to assail from the high bank of the creek. To our honorable guest, the Governor, was conceded the privilege of shooting the first, which he did with great accuracy, sending a ball directly through one of the creature’s eyes. Still the shot did not kill him instantly, as would have been the result with any other animal; and he plunged through the creek for a time at a furious rate, lashing the water with his powerful tail, and causing great commotion among the finny multitude. The other crocodiles in lieu of being alarmed with the uproar, were only rendered more inquisitive, dashing forward with gleaming eyes and tusks, which so fascinated my friend the English artist, as rather endangered his safety in his eagerness to get a thorough view of the reptiles. Forgetting his proximity to the precipice, he approached it so nearly as to miss his footing, and would doubtless have rolled into one of the open jaws below him, but for the prompt assistance of a companion, who caught him as he was in the act of falling.

From the same place where the first shot was fired, we succeeded in killing or wounding not less than twenty crocodiles; but the banks being high and precipitous, we could not secure the carcases. One of these, which lay stranded on a sand bank across the creek, being characterized by a singular hump on his back, which added to his already monstrous size, I felt a great desire to examine more closely. To accomplish this, it was necessary to ford the creek lower down, where I was assured the water was sufficiently low to allow of walking over. The undertaking was not, however, without considerable risk from the numerous sting-rays and caribes. But my interest in all pertaining to Nature’s works helped me over to the other side, whither I was accompanied by Roseliano, a youth attached to my family, famed as a dare-devil. With his assistance I dragged the crocodile partly out of water, and was examining the load which nature had placed upon his back, when Roseliano perceived a movement of one of his eyes, the other having been shattered by the bullet; we supposed he had been by this time quite dead. My young companion, who had expressed his suspicions that the crocodile was only feigning death, wishing to ascertain the truth, proposed stabbing him in the armpit with his dagger. Before permitting this, I insisted upon securing the jaws by means of a large stake which we sharpened at one end and plunged into his nostrils, and I then leaned upon it with the whole weight of my body. This precaution saved my companion, but came very near proving fatal to myself, as the instant the crocodile felt the cold steel between his ribs he raised his enormous head, lifting me at least a foot from the ground; but was prevented from injuring me by the stake which he caught between his powerful tusks, shattering it to splinters, and then retreated to the middle of the creek. His triumph was, however, of short duration; for, the blood oozing in torrents from his wounds, he quickly fell a prey to thousands of hungry caribes.

Sir Robert Schombourgh relates an incident which occurred during his ascent of the river Berbice, and which further demonstrates the tenacity of life in the cayman. “One was fired at, floating, and the ball took off the end of the snout; it received another immediately afterward in the hinder part of the skull which appeared to have taken effect; still, the Indians were not sparing in their blows, and when there was not much likelihood of its possessing a spark of life, it was deposited on the bow of one of the corials. While the corial was drawn across the rapids, two of the Arawaaks got courage and took it up in order to lay it in a more convenient place; they had just effected this, when at one bound it jumped out into the river and disappeared. The Indians looked quite stupefied, and never afterward could be persuaded to touch a cayman.”

The creek of Macanillal is also famous for its many water-dogs, or perros de agua (Myopotamus coypos) and nutrias. The latter is a large species of otter with a fine glossy fur. The former resembles a beaver very closely, but has a round tail similar to that of the opossum. Both animals live in the water, coming out occasionally to sun themselves on the sand banks. In a hut near the scene of our last crocodile adventure I saw a skin of the water-dog which measured five feet in length, exclusive of the tail; but although I often made diligent search for this singular amphibious animal, I never had an opportunity of making his acquaintance. Like the otter he is extremely shy, and only the practised eye of an Indian can trace him near the surface of the water when he rises to breathe.

CHAPTER XII.

BIRDS OF ILL OMEN AND CARRION HAWKS.

The tiger-owl, which may be said to rank among the feathered tribe as does the jaguar or American tiger among beasts, is nearly the size of a domestic turkey. Like his powerful prototype, he is spotted with black, and seldom makes himself heard excepting at night, when calling on his mate; or during his nocturnal expeditions in the neighborhood of the farmyard. He is then, not only a terror to the defenceless brood, but also to the younger inmates of the house, who look upon him with a kind of superstitious awe, on which account he sometimes escapes punishment.

Less imposing in size than the preceding—although more terrifying in their way—are the ya-acabó and the pavita—two other species of owl considered harbingers of calamity or death, when heard fluttering around a house. The first portends an approaching death among the inmates, and is therefore looked upon with dread even by men who would not flinch at the sight of the most formidable bull or jaguar. Yet that appalling cry, ya acabó! ya acabó!—it is finished! it is finished!—seems so fraught with evil mystery, that few hear it unmoved. The only expedient resorted to, in such cases, is to form a cross with hot ashes in front of the house, which, it is believed, will drive away this ill-omened messenger. The pavita—although not larger than a turtle-dove, is also considered pajaro de mal agüero—a bird of ill-omen—being no less—they say—than the departed spirit of some good-natured relative come to warn his kindred against approaching calamity. In these cases, as it is believed that nothing is so acceptable to the poor soul as a few Pater Nosters and Ave Marias, they usually try to disembarrass themselves of the unwelcome visitor by reciting aloud several of these prayers, after crossing themselves twice with much devotion. Whenever this owl’s dreaded cry is heard, it is certain to be followed by a scene of great confusion and dismay: the children run to the women and hide behind their skirts; the women seek protection from the men; while these content themselves with muttering the holy invocation Ave Maria Purisima! which is ever with them the favorite talisman against danger.

Great varieties of goat-suckers—not unlike huge butterflies fluttering in the light evening breeze—also make their appearance at sundown, when may be heard their singularly harsh notes closely resembling human articulations.

“The harmless, unoffending goat-sucker, from the time of Aristotle down to the present day”—says Waterton in his “Wanderings”—“has been in disgrace with man. Father has handed down to son, and author to author, that this nocturnal thief subsists by milking the flocks. Poor injured little bird of night! how sadly hast thou suffered, and how foul a stain has inattention to facts put upon thy character! Thou hast never robbed man of any part of his property, nor deprived the kid of a drop of milk.”

“When the moon shines bright, you may have a fair opportunity of examining the goat-sucker. You will see it close by the cows, goats, and sheep, jumping up every now and then, under their bellies. Approach a little nearer—he is not shy, ‘he fears no danger for he knows no sin.’ See how the nocturnal flies are tormenting the herd, and with what dexterity he springs up and catches them as fast as they alight on the belly, legs and udder of the animals. Observe how quiet they stand, and how sensible they seem of his good offices, for they neither strike at him, nor hit him with their tails, nor tread on him, nor try to drive him away as an uncivil intruder. Were you to dissect him and inspect his stomach, you would find no milk there. It is full of the flies which have been annoying the herd.

“The prettily mottled plumage of the goat-sucker, like that of the owl, wants the lustre which is observed in the feathers of the birds of day. This, at once, marks him as a lover of the pale moon’s nightly beams. There are nine species here” (in Demerara). “The largest appears nearly the size of the English wood-owl. Its cry is so remarkable, that having once heard it, you will never forget it. When night reigns over these immeasurable wilds, whilst lying in your hammock, you will hear this goat-sucker lamenting like one in deep distress. A stranger would never conceive it to be the cry of a bird. He would say it was the departing voice of a midnight murdered victim, or the last wailing of Niobe for her poor children, before she was turned into stone. Suppose yourself in hopeless sorrow, begin with a high loud note, and pronounce, ‘ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,’ each note lower and lower, till the last is scarcely heard, pausing a moment or two betwixt every note, and you will have some idea of the moaning of the largest goat-sucker in Demerara.

“Four other species of the goat-sucker articulate some words so distinctly, that they have received their names from the sentences they utter, and absolutely bewilder the stranger on his arrival at these parts. The most common one sits down close by your door, and flies and alights three or four yards before you, as you walk along the road, crying, ‘Who are you, who, who, who are you?’ Another bids you, ‘Work away, work, work, work away.’ A third cries mournfully, ‘Willy, come go, Willy, Willy, Willy come go.’ And high up the country a fourth tells you ‘Whip poor Will, whip, whip, whip poor Will.’ ”[27]

There is a bird, however, among these nocturnal serenaders which impresses you with very different feelings from those produced by the owl species: this is the Gallineta de monte or forest-hen, a most beautiful creature both in color and in shape, and not unlike a water-hen in general appearance: the eyes especially are peculiarly pretty, being of a brilliant ruby color and scintillate like fire. These birds sing in concert, and their song—a lively chatter—has a mystic fascination I am unable to describe. They are also considered delicate eating; but unfortunately are very difficult to catch, for even after being shot, unless wounded in the leg, they can outstrip the swiftest hound, although their wings, being very small, avail them little. Nature, however, has provided them with long yellow legs for the purpose.

The ponds and lagoons of the savannas are literally crowded with other individuals of the feathered tribe, whose lively notes and incessant chatterings contribute likewise to enliven the night. The most conspicuous among them are various species of teal-ducks, such as güires and yaguasos, and a long-legged plover—alcaravan.—This last has the peculiarity of uttering a long, shrill sound at hourly intervals, thus marking every hour of the night after the manner of a clock’s alarum. It is easily domesticated in the houses, where it renders some service, not only by marking time, but also by giving warning of the approach of strangers.

The aruco is another bird of large size, whose drum-like notes are often heard in the stillness of night. In size and plumage it greatly resembles a turkey; but its flesh is so spongy, that in lifting one of these uncouth birds from the ground, it appears like a mere bundle of feathers. The wings of the male are provided with a pair of sharp spurs, with which, when fighting, they greatly injure one another.

Another feature of the cattle-farm is the great number of carrion vultures and other birds of prey constantly hovering around the houses and corrals, attracted thither by the carcasses of dead animals. The most conspicuous among them is the zamuro or gallinazo, (Cathartes Atratus,) that constant companion of rude civilization in all tropical countries, but an indolent, greedy and disgusting associate. As, however, they occasionally render service in the capacity of scavengers, they are generally tolerated among the fowl of the farmyard. It is a gregarious bird, and collects in large flocks on the roof and fences, where, with knowing glances, they seem to be scanning all the actions of the inmates. I often amused myself in threatening them with a missile of some sort; but they never appeared to notice it, until they perceived me to be in earnest: then with wings half spread and leaning forward, they watched intently the moment when I should hurl it at them to evade it by flight or a dodge of the head.—They build their nests in holes which they dig in the ground. Their young are white, gradually changing to black as they grow older, and only two are raised by the parent every year. Although essentially carrion feeders, the olfactories of these birds are not so sensitive as to discover for them a dead animal—as many suppose;—but their sight is very good. They fly to immense heights, and thence examine every portion of the ground below them. In doing this they may often be observed on motionless wing, whirling round and round in graceful evolutions.

With the zamuro is often associated another carrion vulture, the oripopo or turkey-buzzard, (Vultur aura,) of the same size and with similar habits to the former. It differs however, from its relative in color—which is dark brown—and in having its neck more destitute of feathers. It is also more elegant in form and in its graceful evolutions through the air than the black vulture. The turkey-buzzard has a wide geographical range, having been met by Audubon as far north as Pennsylvania, and by Darwin in the arid plains of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. When soaring through the upper regions of the air, it can be at once recognized by its long, sweeping flight, accompanied by a buzzing sound, much like the gust of the whirlwind, and perfectly audible from a great distance.

The Rey-Zamuro or king of the vultures, (Vultur papa,) larger than the foregoing, is the most beautiful of its kind. Its plumage, resembling down in softness and fineness, is of a pearly white, excepting the wings, which are tipped with black. The breast and neck, although entirely bare of feathers, are decked in the most brilliant tint of blue, orange, and red, while a sort of membranous excrescence crowns the head, giving it a truly royal appearance.

This King of the vultures has also very aristocratic habits, never associating with any, not even those of his own tribe. It is a remarkable fact that when he alights upon a carcass, amidst a flock of other vultures, all these last retire, or make a circle round the banquet. When his majesty has dined, he flies off, uttering a loud cry, and only then his subjects venture to approach the carrion.

There is in the more elevated part of the adjoining province of Barinas, another bird of the same class—Vultur barbatus—which partakes of the eagle and the vulture, but is larger than either. It is called in consequence gavilucho—eagle-hawk—and has been seen at times descending toward the plains. The legs and wings are very long and powerful. It is said to be very handsome, but it is extremely shy of man. The plumage is bluish, red, white and yellow. This bird joins to the boldness and cruelty of the eagle, the loathsome voracity of the vultures. It prefers live flesh, especially that of small quadrupeds, and preys principally upon rabbits, goats, sheep and even young calves. It raises only one brood in a season, and builds its nest amidst the most inaccessible ledges of the Cordilleras.

I will close the list of the carrion birds of Venezuela with enumerating two others, nearly allied to the hawk, but partaking also of the characteristics of the eagle. These are the caricari and chiriguare (Polyborus Brasiliensis and P. Chimango) corresponding to the caracaras and carrancha of Brazil and Buenos Ayres, concerning which Darwin has given this graphic account:

“The caracaras are from their structure placed among the eagles: we shall soon see how ill they become so high a rank. In their habits they will supply the place of our carrion crows, magpies and ravens, a tribe of birds widely distributed over the rest of the world, but entirely absent in South America.

“The carranchas, together with the chimango, constantly attend in numbers the estancias and slaughtering-houses. If an animal dies on the plain, the gallinazo commences the feast, and then the two species of Polyborus pick the bones clean. These birds, although thus commonly feeding together, are far from being friendly. When the carrancha is quietly seated on the branch of a tree or on the ground, the chimango often continues for a long time flying backward and forward, up and down, in a semicircle, trying each time at the bottom of the curve to strike its larger relative. Although the carranchas frequently assemble in numbers, they are not gregarious; for in desert places they may be seen solitary, or more commonly in pairs.

“The carranchas are said to be very crafty, and to steal great numbers of eggs. They attempt, also, together with the chimango, to pick off the scabs from the sore backs of horses and mules. The poor animal, on the one hand, with its ears down and its back arched, and, on the other hand, the hovering bird, eyeing at the distance of a yard the disgusting morsel, form a picture, which has been described by Captain Head with his own peculiar spirit and accuracy. These false eagles rarely kill any living bird or animal; and their vulture-like, necrophagous habits are very evident to any one who has fallen asleep on the desolate plains of Patagonia, for when he wakes he will see, on each surrounding hillock, one of these birds patiently watching him with an evil eye; it is a feature in the landscape of these countries, which will be recognized by every one who has wandered over them. If a party of men go out hunting with dogs and horses, they will be accompanied during the day by several of these attendants. After feeding, the uncovered craw protrudes; at such times, and indeed, generally, the carrancha is an inactive, tame, and cowardly bird. Its flight is heavy and slow, like that of an English rook. It seldom soars; but I have twice seen one at a great height gliding through the air with great ease. It runs, (in contradistinction to hopping,) but not quite so quickly as some of its congeners. At times the carrancha is noisy, but is not generally so; its cry is loud, very harsh and peculiar, and may be likened to the sound of the Spanish guttural g, followed by a rough double r r; when uttering this cry, it elevates its head higher and higher, till at last, with its beak wide open, the crown almost touches the lower part of the head. This fact, which has been doubted, is quite true.”

These birds are, however, a great blessing to the inhabitants of the Llanos, who are indebted to them, not only for the destruction of vast numbers of snakes and other reptiles, but for the service they render conjointly with the vultures in consuming the offal near houses. They seek their food both in dry lands and amidst the swampy borders of rivers; on the one they find serpents and lizards in abundance; in the other terrapins, frogs and small crocodiles. They are peculiar in always killing their prey before commencing to devour it. If the caricari meet with a serpent or young crocodile large enough to oppose a long resistance, he approaches it sideways, shielded by one of his wings spread out, and striking his prey near the head with his bill, retires to a short distance to watch the result. A second blow is usually fatal, upon which, seizing his victim in his claws, he tears it with his bill. The sluggish tortoises and terrapins are easy prey for the caricari; these he renders helpless by turning them upon their backs, then with his powerful bill tears out the entrails.

Singing birds are of great numbers and varieties in the Llanos; these are mostly of the oriole species, all of which seem to delight in the vicinity of man. They usually select some tree near the house, and from its slender topmost branches, weave their hanging nests beyond reach of mischievous boys and monkeys. One of these songsters, the gonzal, had his nest close by the ropes of my hammock, where every morning before sunrise he awakened me by his sweetly plaintive notes; and so fascinated was I by this charming neighbor, that I always remained long after the reveille, listening to his delicious music.

There is another closely allied species, far superior to this or any other bird of the kind with which I am acquainted. It is the troupial, whose powerful notes can only be likened to strains of the violin. It is easily domesticated in houses, and learns readily any air from hearing it whistled. I have one of these birds at home (in New York) which sings the Cachuca, Yankee Doodle, and various other tunes, besides distinctly whistling the name of a person. Its predominant colors are rich orange and shining black, with white spots on the wings and bill in beautiful contrast. It is a dangerous pet, however, if at large in a house, attacking strangers furiously, and always aiming at the eyes.

The arrendajo, or mocking-oriole, is perhaps the most extraordinary of its kind, on account of its imitative proclivities, mimicking every sound with such exactness, that he goes by the name of mocking-bird among the colonists of Demerara; according to Waterton, “His own song is sweet, but very short. If a toucan be yelping in the neighborhood, he drops it, and imitates him. Then he will amuse his protector with the cries of the different species of woodpecker, and when the sheep bleat he will distinctly answer them. Then comes his own song again; and if a puppy dog or a guinea fowl interrupt him, he takes them off admirably, and by his different gestures during the time, you would conclude that he enjoys the sport.”

The arrendajo is, besides, a beautiful bird, and considered by ornithologists a model of symmetry; his predominant color is a glossy black, with the exception of his belly, rump and half the tail, which are of a bright yellow. On each wing also he has a spot of the same color. His beak is tinged of a delicate shade of lemon, while his eyes are sky blue, the pupil being a deeper shade of the same.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE RODEO.

It is customary in all large cattle farms to assemble from time to time the cattle of certain districts for the purpose of selecting those which require branding and marking, and also to allow the neighboring farmers to separate from the herds many stray animals belonging to them, which, from the open nature of the plains, it is impossible to keep within the boundaries of their own savannas. This operation cannot be accomplished without a great number of able and expert riders, who, on a given day, surround a large area of country and drive toward one centre all the cattle that may be found within the selected space. An extended circle or ring is thus formed, enclosing a great horde of wild animals; these are kept in check by the well-concerted evolutions of the vaqueros until the appointed rendezvous is reached, where, after allowing the cattle to cool down, the different brands are selected; hence the name of rodeo, from rodear, to surround.

The object on this occasion was not only to separate all the calves that required branding, but also to collect a large drove of oxen, so as to furnish our extensive potreros of San Pablo de Paya with marketable beeves.

Our first foray against the horned tenants of the wilderness would thus assume an importance seldom witnessed in that retired corner of the republic; as also in addition to our own force, we counted upon the assistance of the vaqueros from the neighboring cattle farms of Caucagua, La Yagua, and others bordering these savannas. Due notice was accordingly sent to the respective owners of those estates to muster on a certain day all their forces upon the field.

The area selected for the hunt embraced at least fifteen miles à la ronde. The hunters, in squads of six or eight, proceeded on the afternoon of the day before the hunt to their stations at various points of the savanna, having instructions to start at early dawn for the appointed centre. We of the staff made a simultaneous move from the house, driving before us, without distinction, all the animals we encountered on the route. The cattle being so unexpectedly roused from their slumbers, naturally endeavored to fly from their pursuers. Soon, however, meeting those from opposite directions, they whirled in mad despair, vainly endeavoring to break through the extended line of horsemen, who were constantly galloping about the struggling mass with shouts and thrusts from their steel-pointed garrochas.

At the commencement it was a truly interesting sight to watch the many groups of cattle, deer, wild boars, dogs, foxes, and other wild quadrupeds coming in from all directions as if impelled by one common instinct; but no sooner did that living ring commence closing upon them, than, scared by the confusion and uproar of the scene, their terror quickly grew to frenzy, and they ran from side to side bellowing, grunting, howling as they went. Solely intent upon the danger that menaced them, the mother forgot her offspring, and listened no more to their painful lamentations; the lover abandoned his beloved, seeking only his own safety in disgraceful flight; and even the fierce bull, forgetting for a moment that he is sovereign of those realms, lost his natural spirit of brave defiance, and rushed blindly off in the train of the frightened multitude. As if to increase the grandeur of the spectacle, a garzero, which had established itself on the borders of a creek hard by, also caught the alarm, and at our approach flew up in the air with a tremendous crashing of wing and bill, leaving their young to care for themselves, and with their discordant and piercing cries to swell the uproar of the scene. It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of this vast multitude of frightened cranes and herons of all sorts which fluttered overhead at that moment; so great was their number that they spread over an extent of several miles, and actually for a time cast a deep shadow over the landscape.

Not less than eight or ten thousand head of cattle were brought within the ring formed of more than a hundred horsemen, who, in preventing the escape of the animals, were compelled to expose themselves and their noble steeds to the vindictiveness of the bulls, which were constantly rushing upon the lines in their endeavors to regain the open prairie. Whenever this was attempted, a horseman galloped boldly upon the fugitive, and by interposing himself between the open field and the bull, forced the latter back to the herd. Wonderfully adroit were the herdsmen in their avoidance of the repeated strokes aimed at them by the bulls, even when it appeared impossible to escape being caught between the animal’s horns. The garrocha played an important part in repelling these attacks. This instrument, only second in importance to the lazo when in the hands of expert riders, is made of the slender, yet tough stem, of the alvarico palm, (ænocarpus cubarro,) by merely sharpening the top end to a point, or surmounting it with an iron head, around which a number of loose rings of the same metal are affixed; these, when shaken close to the animal’s ear, frighten him off with the rattling sound they produce. The shaft of the goad is fully ten feet long, and although not thicker than a walking-stick, can bear an immense amount of pressure without breaking. As a weapon of aggression, this slender palm stem has become justly celebrated throughout the country, from the fact of having supplied the primitive bands of patriots who first dared to oppose the tyrannical rule of Spain with ready-made lances in the wilderness. The manner in which Llaneros make use of the garrocha is quite extraordinary. When in pursuit of a bull which they purpose turning back to the rodeo, if the animal be swifter than the horse, the rider always manages to reach him with the point of his spear. This he thrusts into the bull’s hide, just above the shoulder-blade, and then leans forward and rests the whole weight of his body upon the shaft, assisted in it by his intelligent charger. The equilibrium of the bull is thus usually destroyed, and he rolls headlong upon the ground. These falls are often sufficient to prevent further attempts at escape, in which case the bull is easily led into the rodeo. This performance, however, is one of the most dangerous practised among Llaneros, and is undertaken only by the most skilful and experienced riders, as, should the spear glance off while the hunter is leaning upon it, or should he happen to overturn the bull in front of his horse, he will in either case receive a terrific fall, and in the latter event, probably come into collision with the fallen animal.

From the midst, and above all the heads of that tumultuous assemblage of wild animals, rose the shaggy frontlet of a black bull, whose martial air and fearless step seemed to proclaim him the patriarch of the herd. An experienced Llanero, intently watching all his movements from afar, observed to those near him, that they would soon have fresh sport; and that “if any one prized the skin of his horse, he would do well to look to his spurs;” meaning that the black bull evidently intended mischief. Mr. Thomas, who was busily sketching the novel scene before him, unaccustomed to the jargon of the Llanos, did not understand this remark, and therefore quietly continued his occupation. The next moment the bull was in our midst, charging first upon Captain Valor, one of the best riders on the field, who, in spite of his name, hastily spurred his steed out of reach; but the bull still pursuing, charged again and again upon him, and doubtless the last attempt would have been fatal to either horse or cavalier, had not the bull been checked in his final onset by accidentally plunging one of his legs into the hole of an armadillo, which fortunate circumstance gave the captain time to distance his pursuer. The bull next sought to vent his rage on the incautious artist, who, one leg crossed over the neck of his horse as support for his sketch-book, sat evidently absorbed in contemplation of the powerful and daring brute, with whose ferocious nature he was totally unacquainted. Having never before attended sports of the kind, my friend paid little regard to the menacing attitude of the animal, who rushed upon him with a fearful bellow that made us tremble for his fate. But for some unaccountable reason, the bull after one or two ineffectual attempts to strike his intended victim, wheeled about and disappeared among the tangled jungle bordering the creek, apparently indignant at the nonchalance with which John Bull received the advances of his namesake. Fearing the recurrence of similar attacks, which might have a less fortunate termination, it was decided to disembarrass ourselves of so uncomfortable a neighbor; with this object, the requisite number of horsemen provided with lazos were sent to capture and subdue him. Instead of seeking safety in precipitate flight, as is generally the case with wild bulls, this one unflinchingly stood his ground, and neither shouts nor menaces could induce him to abandon the threatening attitude he had assumed. It was indeed a splendid sight to behold that proud monarch of the horned tribe bidding defiance to all about him, his huge and shaggy head, surmounted by a pair of pointed, powerful horns, high in air, and with an expression of countenance that was almost diabolical. His savage upper lip looked as if curled in contempt of his antagonists, and his eyes gleamed with fury in the light of the morning sun. Occasionally with his fore feet he ploughed up the earth, which, falling in showers upon him, he swept from his sides with his tail, uttering all the while a sort of suppressed roar resembling distant thunder. Then came the furious charge, when every one was compelled to run for his life, as nothing could arrest his headlong course. Blinded with rage, he spared not even those of his own species, killing two heifers instantly, and wounding a bull so severely that he died shortly afterward. Each time the men whirled the lazo to throw it over his head, he dashed forward with such rapidity as to disconcert their aim, until, finally, a bold and agile sambo, Sarmiento by name, who acted as caporal, and of whom we shall say more hereafter, dismounting from his horse and seizing the red blanket from his saddle, prepared to face the bull without the encumbrance of the lazo. His intention was to bewilder or torear him by a succession of such feats of agility as are usually practised by matadors in bull fights; and so successful was he, that in one of the animal’s furious charges, he succeeded in grasping and holding his tail; and in spite of the efforts the bull made to strike him with his horns, Sarmiento followed his movements so closely, that by a dexterous twist of the tail he succeeded in overthrowing the brute upon his side; he then drew the tail between the hind legs, and as this completely deprives the animal of all power of rising, he was enabled to hold him until others came to his assistance. Then, to prevent further mischief, the men proceeded to saw off the tops of his horns and to perform upon him other usual operations. These precautions, however, proved quite unnecessary, as the bull, exhausted by rage and loss of blood, shortly afterward dropped upon the ground and expired.

In spite of the vigilance and constant efforts of the men to keep the animals within the rodeo, several other bulls managed to break through the ranks. The only method of bringing them back was by using the all-potent lazo, and two men, one of them thus equipped, were despatched after the fugitive, which on being noosed, was by the second man speedily thrown upon his side by means of that dangerous appendage, the tail, in the management of which the Llaneros of Venezuela are so famous. This accomplished, they pierced the thick cartilage which divides the nostrils with the point of a dagger; one end of the thong was then passed through the wound, while the other remained fastened to the horse’s tail; the Llanero, then mounting his steed, jerked the end attached to the bull, which brought the prostrate beast at once to his feet, when he was marched off to his destination without further trouble, literally led by the nose.

Another method of arresting a bull in his flight, is by a bold manœuvre termed colear, and which consists, as already stated, in availing themselves of the animal’s tail to overthrow him when at full speed; but that is not easy of accomplishment, as the bull has then such entire freedom of movement. The horse also must be perfectly well trained to these hazardous undertakings, and should obey instantly the slightest pull of the bit; for if the bull turns suddenly upon his pursuer, the chances are ten to one that the horse will be severely wounded. The rider first gallops close to the rear of the bull, and seizing his tail with one hand, gives it a turn or two around his wrist to prevent its slipping. When thus prepared, he urges his horse forward, until the heads of the two animals are on a “dead-heat;” then quickly turning in an oblique direction, and exerting all his strength, he pulls the bull toward him, and does not relinquish his hold until he perceives that the enemy is tottering, when he is easily overthrown from the great impetus imparted by their rapid pace. Some men are so dexterous that they can colear with both hands at the same time; which necessarily gives greater power over the bull, enabling the rider to bring him down much more readily. The horse, in this case, left to his own well-taught guidance, assists the manœuvres of his rider, pushing forward at the instant he perceives that his master is prepared for the pull, and turning about also at the right moment. How wonderful the instinct of these noble creatures! that teaches them so readily the importance of the slightest movement, on which often depends, not only the success of the enterprise, but their own safety, as well as that of their masters. If too powerful resistance is offered at the outset by the bull, as is sometimes the case, the rider still clings to the tail of his adversary, and throwing himself off his horse while at full speed, the impetus combined with his weight and strength never fail in bringing the bull like a fallen giant to the ground; then the man quickly drawing the tail between the hind legs, awaits the arrival of his companions to assist in securing the prize.

It was often matter of surprise to me in what manner the Llaneros, notwithstanding the thorough training of the horses, contrived their speedy approach to the rear of the bulls, as these were usually considerably ahead at the start. On one occasion, I was regretting that my pony was too small to keep pace with the hunters, when one of the men, who was mounted on a prototype of Rosinante—on which, nevertheless, he had performed prodigies of strength—turned to me and said, “Vaya, niño, let me show you that this is not the fault of the horse, but that of the rider;” whereupon we exchanged horses, and off he went after a powerful bull just escaped. Not many minutes elapsed before I lost sight of horse and rider in a cloud of dust raised by the beast in its fall.

Some hours elapsed before the tremendous excitement and confusion of the wild melée described above had sufficiently subsided to render the forms of men and cattle visible through the clouds of dust and ashes raised by the trampling of so many animals. The grass, at this period parched by the sun and reduced to ashes in various places by the usual conflagrations, mingled with the dust and rose in dense columns, which from afar might have been mistaken for the dreaded monsoon.

In the mean while the distracted mothers ran from side to side, lowing piteously for their missing young. Here and there fierce duellos among rival bulls took place for the possession of some shaggy one of the softer sex. Butting their huge fronts together, and goring each other with their sharp-pointed horns, they fought with the courage and skill of accomplished gladiators, tearing up the earth in wild fury, and filling the air with their deep, savage bellowings. A crowd of admirers from amidst the herd formed a circle around the combatants, and if any from among their number evinced the least disposition to interfere, he was immediately chased away by the others, so that there might be fair play while the fight lasted. Often these encounters proved fatal to one of the belligerents, as neither will yield the palm without a desperate resistance.

The bellowing of thousands of animals, with the yells and deafening shouts of the men galloping about the plain, waving their ponchos and rattling their garrochas, combined to give the scene more the appearance of a fiendish melodrama, than a purely pastoral assemblage of men and cattle.

The confusion having at length subsided, four of the ablest horsemen, penetrating the living mass, which, as they advanced, surged on either side like the waves of the sea, commenced the difficult task of separating the animals intended for the brand, and those belonging to our neighbors. This occasioned another series of evolutions, which only men trained to such exercises could have accomplished successfully.

It is usual in all cattle-farms to cut a notch or two in the animal’s ear at the time they are branded, for the purpose of recognizing them more readily from a distance, a precaution which is particularly serviceable on occasions like that just described, it being impossible to read the brand when the creatures are crowded into a herd. Although most of the calves had not the notch, they belong by right to the owner of the mother, even if they are found on the lands of another party. Of it the vaqueros availed themselves in their subsequent apportioning of the different lots of cattle. This they accomplished in the most expeditious manner by riding boldly at the animals in question, hastening or checking their progress through the herd as the case required. Thus by repeated evolutions of the sort, they finally brought the animals to the edge of the ring, where an opening was purposely left for their escape, and then the nearest horseman drove them in among a small body of tame cattle stationed a short distance from the rodeo. These violent manœuvrings could not be accomplished, however, without endangering at every step the security of the entire herd. Each time the drivers turned out an animal the whole mass was thrown into the utmost confusion, and it required the most consummate skill on the part of the men to prevent the entire dispersion of the cattle. The fearlessness with which the drivers plunged into that labyrinth of savage, panting brutes, advancing close upon the wall of bristling horns which barred their progress, and boldly driving the infuriated creatures before them like a pack of sheep, was truly worthy of admiration. The readiness with which they detected at a distance the mark on the animal’s ears was also no less noticeable, singling out such at a glance, and immediately driving them away to their respective groups. When all the brands had thus been apportioned, each owner proceeded to drive away his own herd. We found in these cases—as indeed in all similar ones—the assistance of madrineros or trained oxen, of great service in driving a large body of cattle across the plains. A dozen of these oxen were sufficient to lead a vast drove, stopping or advancing at a signal from the overseer, while the vaqueros kept close watch on rear and flank to prevent escape and to urge on the cattle, especially the crowd of stray calves—some of them only a few hours old—which, like a procession of lost children, kept up a continual bewailing for their mothers as if the last ray of hope had departed from them. Although their case was indeed a hard one, and the task of driving them over the rough ground still harder, we were unwilling to leave them behind, hoping to find their mammas among the multitude before us. When within a short distance from the house, we halted to make preparations for the enclosure of the herds. But one of the most dangerous parts of the proceedings yet remained, that of forcing the cattle into the corrals.

The entrance to the majada—shaped like a great funnel—was, like the rest of the fences, made of very strong posts, driven into the ground and barred across at intervals with thick rafters of bamboo. Through this funnel, or manga, the cattle in small lots were driven at full speed headed by the madrineros—those treacherous guides trained to ensnare their kindred—while the horsemen barricaded the mouth of the funnel with the breasts of the poor horses. Every thing proceeded satisfactorily as far as the end of the funnel, the madrineros, with all the cunning of semi-civilized brutes, redoubling their pace at the moment of entering the great enclosure. Then their wild brethren, perceiving the treachery, turned upon their captors, and a most fearful struggle ensued. The bulls, in spite of the deafening shouts of the men, and the formidable array of garrochas levelled at their heads, endeavored to force their way back to the open plain, and many of them actually succeeded in breaking through the barricade of horses. Thus many noble steeds, which until then had escaped unhurt, met with an inglorious death. That most of the men escaped unhurt, appeared little less than miraculous, as not only were they also exposed at every moment to the vindictive attacks of the bulls, but it often happened that some of them were unhorsed, when they were in imminent danger of being trampled by the retreating foe. The superior skill and intrepidity of man, however, triumphed at length over mere brute resistance, and the whole herd was in a short time securely quartered in the majada.

CHAPTER XIV.

BRANDING SCENES.