friend and my servant Juan for Valencia. Just
before we left, a Creole, who wished to curry
favour with C., rode up to us upon a magnificent
mule, and said that he too was going to Valencia,
that he observed I was indifferently mounted, and
that he would, therefore, be very glad to accompany
us, and lend me his mule whenever I got
tired of my own. Having made the wished-for
impression on C., this rusé individual started
with us, but remained in our company for only
about half a mile, and then set off over the
heavy sandy road at a speed which our poor
beasts could not rival. I found that my mule
stumbled abominably, and I inwardly resolved
to exchange animals with the polite creole, for
a mile or two at least, on the first
opportunity. We rode on, under a terrible sun, for
five miles, through a dense swampy jungle,
full of blue land-crabs and snares, to Palato,
where there is a miserable hovel to represent
a village, and where the sea reappears, not
sluggish and sleeping, as at Puerto Cabello, but
breaking on a wild coast in foaming surges. Here
we sat down and smoked, and discussed the
prospects of the railway from Puerto Cabello to
San Felipe, the first station of which we knew
would be at Palato, while from the same village
another line would diverge to Valencia. Thus
far we had gone west, but we now turned south,
and began to ascend from the coast, rejoicing to
emerge from the dense low jungle, through
which we had hitherto been plodding. On our
left, was a ravine, at the bottom of which flowed
a small stream called the Rio del Ultimo Paso,
or "Ne Plus Ultra River." About a mile to the
east of Palato is the mouth of the Rio Agua
Caliente, "Hot-water River," in which, according
to Humboldt, the alligators are of uncommon
size and ferocity. It is curious how these
disgusting animals thrive in thermal springs, as at
the Magar Talao in Lower Sindh, and other
places in India.

After going a mile or two we came to a posada,
and here whom should we see smoking
indolently with his feet up on a bench, but our friend
the creole, owner of the fine mule. As I was
heartily sick of my own animal, and did not
understand that creole promises meant nothing,
I reminded him of his proposal, and said, "I
should like to exchange mules for a mile or
two." "With all my heart, señor," replied he,
"but I have a little affair to settle with the
landlord here. I will overtake you, before you
have advanced a couple of miles; we will then not
only exchange mules, but you shall, if you like,
ride mine all the rest of the way to Valencia."
As I rather misdoubted this arrangement, and
was determined not to ride my own animal
any more, I mounted Juan's in spite of his
assuring me that I should lose by the change.
After about half an hour we spied the courteous
creole coming up at a great pace, and of
course expected he would stop when he reached
us. Instead of that, he had the effrontery to
pass us like a flash of lightning, seeming not to
hear our calls to him to pull up, but leaving for
our benefit a cloud of dust, which drove directly
in our faces, and which was the sole advantage
that accrued to us from our interview with this
polite individual at Puerto Cabello, and the
courteous promises he there made to us. Even
Juan, though used to the country, was rather
scandalised at his behaviour, and could not
refrain from shouting after him "Picaron!
Embustero!" "Rogue, humbug," and other angry
expressions, which no doubt afforded the creole
immense amusement.

As we left the coast behind us the soil grew
firmer, the pestilential smell ceased, and the
jungle waxed higher and higher. Many lofty and
beautiful trees now attracted our attention,
especially palms, as the sago palm and the
cocurito. Juan also pointed out to me the breadfruit-tree
—which looks in the distance as if some
one had been hanging human heads on it—and
the famous Palo de Vaca, or "cow-tree," which
supplies a milk exactly like that of animals.
There were also many fruits and flowers, very
beautiful to look at, but some of them most
poisonous, as the manzanilla, which resembles in
appearance and pernicious effects a certain fruit
that "brought death into the world and all our
woe." The sun set, but a bright moon rose, and
we jogged on pleasantly, though very slowly. A
little after eight P.M. we saw, not quite a mile off,
the lights of the village of Camburé, which is only
seven miles from Palato, so tardy had been our
progress, and so often had we stopped to smoke,
to look at flowers and trees, and to discuss the
proper line for the railway to Valencia. Seeing
the village so near, I lagged behind to light
another cigar: not an easy matter with the
bad matches of the country. While I was
absorbed in this undertaking, my mule gave a
violent start, which almost sent me off my
equilibrium, and began to run at a pace of which I
had not before thought it capable. Pulling at
the reins with both hands, I looked over my
shoulder, and saw a large animal leap into the
road behind me, stand for a moment or two, and
then pass into the thicket on the other side.
Presently a savage roar from the jungle about
fifty yards to my right, told me what sort of
animal it was, and set my mule galloping on
towards the village, at a speed which I now did
not attempt to check. In a minute or two I was
met by Juan, who came hurrying back to meet
me. "Did you hear anything?" I asked. "Yes,
yes," replied Juan, "I heard. It's a tiger, sure
enough. They don't often attack men, but this
one must be hungry, or he would not come so
near the village; so we had better get to the
posada as soon as possible." We pushed on
accordingly, but before we reached the village
we heard the jaguar, for such it was, roar
repeatedly in the jungle behind us, and, to judge by
the sound, he seemed to be following in our wake.

Camburé is a village of about forty houses, or
rather hovels, in the midst of a very dense jungle,
and with a deep ravine to the east. At the bottom