Odd People: Being a Popular Description of Singular Races of Man

Taking them upon the whole, the Turcomans may be looked upon as true savages, – savages dressed in silk instead of in skins.

Chapter Ten.

The Ottomacs, or Dirt-Eaters

On the banks of the Orinoco, a short distance above the point where that mighty river makes its second great sweep to the eastward, dwells a remarkable people, – a tribe of savages that, even among savages, are remarkable for many peculiar and singular customs. These are the Ottomacs.

They have been long known, – and by the narratives of the early Spanish missionaries, rendered notorious, – on account of some curious habits; but although the missionaries have resided among them, and endeavoured to bring them within “sound of the bell,” their efforts have met with a very partial and temporary success; and at this present hour, the Ottomacs are as savage in their habits; and as singular in their customs, as they were in the days of Columbus.

The Ottomacs are neither a stunted nor yet a weak race of men. Their bodies are strong, and their arms and limbs stout and muscular; but they are remarkably ill-featured, with an expression of countenance habitually stern and vindictive.

Their costume is easily described, or rather cannot be described at all, since they have none. Both, sexes go entirely naked, – if we except a little belt of three or four inches in width, made from cotton or the bark of trees, and called the guayuco, which they wear around the waist, – but even this is worn from no motives of modesty.

What they regard in the light of a costume is a coat of paint, and about this they are as nice and particular as a Parisian dandy. Talk about “blooming up” a faded belle for the ballroom, or the time spent by an exquisite in adjusting the tie of his cravat! these are trifles when compared with the lengthy and elaborate toilette of an Ottomac lady or gentleman.

The greater part of a day is often spent by them in a single dressing, with one or two helpers to assist in the operation; and this is not a tattooing process, intended to last for a lifetime, but a costume certain to be disfigured, or entirely washed off, at the first exposure to a heavy shower of rain. Add to this, that the pigments which are used for the purpose are by no means easily obtained: the vegetable substances which furnish them are scarce in the Ottomac country; and it costs one of these Indians the produce of several days of his labour to purchase sufficient paint to give his whole skin a single “coat.” For this reason the Ottomac paints his body only on grand occasions, – contenting himself at ordinary times with merely staining his face and hair.

When an Ottomac wishes to appear in “full dress” he first gives himself a “priming” of red. This consists of the dye called “annotto,” which is obtained from the fruit pulp of the Bixa orellana, and which the Indians knew how to prepare previous to their intercourse with Europeans. Over this red ground is then formed a lattice-work of lines of black, with a dot in the centre of every little square or diamond. The black dye is the “caruto,” also a vegetable pigment, obtained from the Genipa Americana. If the gentleman be rich enough to possess a little “chica” which is a beautiful lake-coloured red, – also the produce of a plant, – the Bignoni, chica, he will then feel all the ecstatic delight of a fashionable dandy who possesses a good wardrobe; and, with half a pound of turtle-oil rubbed into his long black tresses, he will regard himself as dressed “within an inch of his life.” It is not always, however, that he can afford the chica, – for it is one of the costliest materials of which a South-American savage can manufacture his suit.

The Ottomac takes far less trouble in the building of his house. Very often he builds none; but when he wishes to guard his body from the rays of the sun, or the periodical rains, he constructs him a slight edifice – a mere hut – out of saplings or bamboos, with a thatch of palm-leaves.

His arms consist of the universal bow and arrows, which he manages with much dexterity; and he has also a harpoon which he employs in killing the manatee and the alligator. He has, besides, several other weapons, to aid him in the chase and fishing, – the latter of which forms his principal employment as well as his chief source of subsistence.

The Ottomac belongs to one of those tribes of Indians termed by the Spanish missionaries Indios andantes, that is “wandering,” or “vagabond Indians,” who instead of remaining in fixed and permanent villages, roam about from place to place, as necessity or inclination dictates. Perhaps this arises from the peculiarity of the country which they inhabit: for the Indios andantes do not live in the thick forests, but upon vast treeless savannas, which stretch along the Orinoco above its great bend. In these tracts the “juvia” trees (bertholletia and lecythys), which produce the delicious “Brazil-nuts” – and other plants that supply the savage spontaneously with food, are sparsely found; and as the savannas are annually inundated for several months, the Ottomac is forced, whether he will or no, to shift his quarters and try for subsistence elsewhere. When the inundations have subsided and the waters become settled enough to permit of fishing, the Ottomac “winter” is over, and he can obtain food in plenty from the alligators, the manatees, the turtles, the toninas or dolphins, and other large fish that frequent the great stream upon which he dwells. Of these the manatee is the most important in the eyes of the Ottomac – as it is the largest in size, and consequently furnishes him with the greatest amount of meat.

This singular semi-cetaceous creature is almost too well-known to require description. It is found in nearly all the large rivers of tropical America, where it feeds upon the grass and aquatic plants growing along their banks. It is known by various names, according to the place and people. The Spaniards call it vaca marina, or “sea-cow,” and the Portuguese peixe hoi, or “fish-ox,” – both being appellations equally inappropriate, and having their origin in a slight resemblance which there exists between the animal’s “countenance” and that of an ox.

The West Indian name is the one we though the true orthography is manati, not manatee, since the word is of Indian origin. Some writers deny this, alleging that it is a derivative from the Spanish word “mano,” a hand, signifying, therefore, the fish with hands, – in allusion to the rudimentary hands which form one of its distinguishing characteristics. This is the account of the historian Oviedo, but another Spanish missionary, Father Gili, offers a more correct explanation of the name, – in fact, he proves, what is neither more nor less than the simple truth, that “manati” was the name given to this animal by the natives of Hayti and Cuba, – where a species is also found, – and the word has no reference whatever to the “hands” of the creature. The resemblance to the Spanish word which should signify “handed,” is merely an accidental circumstance; and, as the acute Humboldt very justly remarks, according to the genius of the Spanish language, the word thus applied would have been written manudo, or manon, and not manati.

The Indians have almost as many different names for this creature as there are rivers in which it is found; but its appellation in the “lingo ageral” of the great Amazon valley, is “juarua.” Among the Ottomacs it is called the “apoia.” It may be safely affirmed that there are several species of this amphibious animal in the rivers of tropical America; and possibly no one of them is identical with that of the West Indies. All have hitherto been regarded as belonging to the same species, and described under the scientific title of Manatus Americanus– a name given to the American manati, to distinguish it from the “lamantin” of Africa, and the “dugong” of the East-Indian seas. But the West-Indian species appears to have certain characteristic differences, which shows that it is a separate one, or, at all events, a variety. It is of much larger size than those of the South-American rivers generally are – though there also a large variety is found, but much rarer than those commonly captured by the fishermen. The West-Indian manati has nails well developed upon the outer edge of its fins, or forearms; while those on the other kinds are either not seen at all, or only in a very rudimentary state. That there are different species, may be deduced from the accounts of the natives, who employ themselves in its capture: and the observations of such people are usually more trustworthy than the speculations of learned anatomists. The Amazon fishermen all agree in the belief that there are three kinds of manati in the Amazon and its numerous tributaries, that not only differ greatly in size – from seven to twenty feet long – and in weight, from four hundred to two thousand pounds, – but also in the colour of their skin, and the shape of their tails and fins. The species found in the Orinoco, and called “apoia” by the Ottomacs, is usually about twelve feet in length, and weighs from five hundred to eight hundred pounds; but now and then a much larger individual is captured, perhaps owing to greater age, or other accidental circumstance. Humboldt heard of one that weighed eight thousand pounds; and the French naturalist D’Orbigny speaks of one killed in the Bolivian waters of the Amazon that was twenty feet in length. This size is often attained by the Manatus Americanus of Cuba and Hayti.

The manati is shaped somewhat like a large seal, and has certain resemblances to a fish. Its body is of an oval oblong, with a large, flat, rounded tail, set horizontally, and which serves as a rudder to direct its course in the water. Just behind its shoulders appear, instead of fins, a pair of flippers, which have a certain resemblance to hands set on to the body without arms. Of these it avails itself, when creeping out against the bank, and the female also uses them in carrying her young. The mammae (for it must be remembered that this creature is a mammiferous animal) are placed just below and behind the flippers. The muzzle is blunt, with thick lips, – the upper projecting several inches beyond the lower, and covered with a delicate epidermis: showing evidently that it avails itself of this prominence – which possesses a keen sense of touch – just as the elephant of his proboscis. The lips are covered with bristles, or beard, which impart a kind of human-like expression to the animal’s countenance, – a circumstance more observable in the “dugongs” of the Oriental waters. “Woman fish,” too, these have been called, and no doubt such creatures, along with the seals and walruses, have given rise to many a story of sirens and mermaids. The “cow-face,” however, from which the manati obtains its Spanish and Portuguese epithets, is the most characteristic; and in its food we find a still greater analogy to the bovine quadruped with which it is brought in comparison. Beyond this the resemblance ceases. The body is that of a seal; but instead of being covered with hair, as the cetaceous animal, the manati has a smooth skin that resembles india-rubber more than anything else. A few short hairs are set here and there, but they are scarce observable. The colour of the manati is that of lead, with a few mottlings of a pinkish-white hue upon the belly; but in this respect there is no uniformity. Some are seen with the whole under-parts of a uniform cream colour.

The lungs of this animal present a peculiarity worthy of being noted. They are very voluminous, – being sometimes three feet in length, and of such a porous and elastic nature as to be capable of immense extension. When blown out, they present the appearance of great swimming bladders; and it is by means of this capacity for containing air that the manati is enabled to remain so long under water, – though, like the true cetaceae, it requires to come at intervals to the surface to obtain breath.

The flesh of the manati is eaten by all the tribes of Indians who can procure it, – though by some it is more highly esteemed than by others. It was once much relished in the colonial settlements of Guiana and the West Indies, and formed a considerable article of commerce; but in these quarters manatis have grown scarce, – from the incessant persecution of the fishermen. The flesh has been deemed unwholesome by some, and apt to produce fevers; but this is not the general opinion. It has a greater resemblance to pork than beef, – though it be the flesh of a cow, – and is very savoury when fresh, though neither is it bad eating when salted or dried in the sun. In this way it will keep for several months; and it has always been a stock article with the monks of the South-American missions, – who, in spite of its mammiferous character, find it convenient, during the days of Lent, to regard it as a fish! The skin of the manati is of exceeding thickness, – on the back an inch and a half at least, though it becomes thinner as it approaches the under-parts of the body. It is cut into slips which serve various purposes, as for shields, cordage, and whips. “These whips of manati leather,” Bays Humboldt, “are a cruel instrument of punishment for the unhappy slaves, and even for the Indians of the missions, though, according to the laws, the latter ought to be treated as freemen.”

Another valuable commodity obtained from this animal is oil, known in the missions as manati-butter (manteca de manati). This is produced by the layer of pure fat, of an inch and a half in thickness, which, lying immediately under the skin, envelops the whole body of the animal. The oil is used for lamps in the mission churches; but among the Indians themselves it is also employed in the cuisine, – as it has not that fetid smell peculiar to the oil of whales and salt-water cetaceae.

The food of the manati is grass exclusively, which it finds on the banks of the lakes and rivers it frequents. Of this it will eat an enormous quantity; and its usual time of browsing is at night, – though this habit may have arisen from its observance of the fact, that night is the safest time to approach the shore. In those places, where is has been left undisturbed, it may be often seen browsing by day.

I have been thus particular in my account of this animal, because it is more nearly connected with the history of Ottomac habits than perhaps that of any other tribe of South-American Indians, – the Guamos alone excepted, who may themselves be regarded as merely a branch of the Ottomac family. Though, as already remarked, all the tribes who dwell upon manati rivers pursue this creature and feed upon its flesh, yet in no other part of South America is this species of fishery so extensively or so dexterously carried on as among the Ottomacs and Guamos, – the reason being, that, amidst the great grassy savannas which characterise the Ottomac country, there are numerous streams and lagoons that are the favourite haunts of this herbivorous animal. In one river in particular, so great a number are found that it has been distinguished by the appellation of the Rio de Manatis (river of manatis). The manati, when undisturbed, is gregarious in its habits, going in troops (or “herds,” if we preserve the analogy) of greater or less numbers, and keeping the young “calves” in the centre, which the mothers guard with the tenderest affection. So attached are the parents to their young, that if the calf be taken, the mother can be easily approached; and the devotion is reciprocated on the filial side; since in cases where the mother has been captured and dragged ashore, the young one has often been known to follow the lifeless body up to the very bank!

As the manati plays such an important part in the domestic economy of the Ottomacs, of course the capturing of this animal is carried on upon the grandest scale among these people, and, like the “harvest of turtle-eggs,” hereafter to be described, the manati fishery has its particular season. Some writers have erroneously stated this season as being the period of inundation, and when the water is at its maximum height. This is quite contrary to the truth; since that period, both on the Amazon and Orinoco rivers, is just the time when all kinds of fishing is difficult and precarious. Then is the true winter, – the “blue months” of the South-American river Indians; and it is then, as will presently be seen, that the Ottomac comes nearest the point of starvation, – which he approaches every year of his life.

There are manati and other kinds of fish taken at all times of the year; but the true season of the manati-fishing is when the waters of the great flood have considerably subsided, and are still continuing to diminish rapidly. When the inundation is at its height, the manati passes out of the channel current of the great river, and in search of grass it finds its way into the lakes and surrounding marshes, remaining there to browse along their banks. When the flood is rapidly passing away from it, it begins to find itself a “little out of its element,” and just then is the time when it is most easily captured.

Sometimes the Indians assemble in a body with their canoes, forming a large fleet; and, proceeding to the best haunts of the “cow-fish,” carry on the fishery in a wholesale manner. The monks of the missions also head the tame tribes on these expeditions, – as they do when collecting the eggs of the turtle, – and a regular systematic course is carried on under the eye of discipline and authority. A camp is formed at some convenient place on the shore. Scaffolds are erected for sun-drying the flesh and skins; and vessels and other utensils brought upon the ground to render the fat into oil. The manatis that have been captured are all brought in the canoes to this central point, and delivered up to be “flensed,” cured, and cooked. There is the usual assemblage of small traders from Angostura and other ports on the lower Orinoco, who come to barter their Indian trinkets for the manteca de manati in the same manner as it will presently be seen they trade for the manteca de tortugas. I need not add that this is a season of joy and festivity, like the wine-gatherings and harvest-homes of the European peasantry.

The mode of capturing the manati is very similar to that employed by the Esquimaux in taking the seal, and which has been elsewhere described. There is not much danger in the fishery, for no creature could be more harmless and inoffensive than this. It makes not the slightest attempt either at defence or retaliation, – though the accident sometimes occurs of a canoe being swamped or drawn under water, – but this is nothing to the Ottomac Indian, who is almost as amphibious as the manati itself.

At the proper hour the fisherman starts off in search of the manati. His fishing-boat is a canoe hollowed from a single trunk, of that kind usually styled a “dugout.” On perceiving the cow-fish resting upon the surface of the water, the Ottomac paddles towards it, observing the greatest caution; for although the organs of sight and hearing in this animal are, externally, but very little developed, it both hears and sees well; and the slightest suspicious noise would be a signal for it to dive under, and of course escape.

When near enough to insure a good aim, the Ottomac hurls his harpoon into the animal’s body; which, after piercing the thick hide, sticks fast. To this harpoon a cord is attached, with a float, and the float remaining above water indicates the direction in which the wounded animal now endeavours to get off. When it is tired of struggling, the Indian regains the cord; and taking it in, hand over hand, draws up his canoe to the side of the fish. If it be still too lively, he repeatedly strikes it with a spear; but he does not aim to kill it outright until he has got it “aboard.” Once there, he ends the creature’s existence by driving a wooden plug into its nostrils, which in a moment deprives it of life.

The Ottomac now prepares himself to transport the carcass to his home; or, if fishing in company, to the common rendezvous. Perhaps he has some distance to take it, and against a current; and he finds it inconvenient to tow such a heavy and cumbrous article. To remedy this inconvenience, he adopts the expedient already mentioned, of placing the carcass in his canoe. But how does he get it there? How can a single Indian of ordinary strength raise a weight of a thousand pounds out of the water, and lift it over the gunwale of his unsteady craft? It is in this that he exhibits great cunning and address: for instead of raising the carcass above the canoe, he sinks the canoe below the carcass, by first filling the vessel nearly full of water; and then, after he has got his freight aboard, he bales out the water with his gourd-shell. He at length succeeds in adjusting his load, and then paddles homeward with his prize.

On arriving at his village, – if it be to the village he takes it, – he is assisted in transporting the load by others of his tribe; but he does not carry it to his own house, – for the Ottomacs are true socialists, and the produce both of the chase and the fishery is the common property of all. The chief of the village, seated in front of his hut, receives all that is brought home, and distributes it out to the various heads of families, – giving to each in proportion to the number of mouths that are to be fed.

The manati is flayed, – its thick hide, as already observed, serving for many useful purposes; the strata of fat, or “blubber,” which lies beneath is removed, to be converted into oil; and finally, the flesh, which is esteemed equal to pork, both in delicacy and flavour, is cut into thin slices, either to be broiled and eaten at the time, or to be preserved for a future occasion, not by salt, of which the Ottomac is entirely ignorant, but by drying in the sun and smoking over a slow fire. Fish and the flesh of the alligator are similarly “cured;” and when the process is carefully done, both will keep for months.

The alligator is captured in various ways: sometimes by a baited hook with a strong cord attached, – sometimes he is killed by a stab of the harpoon spear, and not unfrequently is he taken by a noose slipped over his paw, the Ottomac diving fearlessly under him and adjusting the snare.

Some of the Indian tribes will not eat the musky flesh of the alligator; but the Ottomacs are not thus particular. Indeed, these people refuse scarce any article of food, however nasty or disagreeable; and it is a saying among their neighbours – the Indians of other tribes – that “nothing is too loathsome for the stomach of an Ottomac.”

Perhaps the saying will be considered as perfectly true when we come to describe a species of food which these people eat, and which, for a long time, has rendered them famous – or rather infamous – under the appellation of “dirt-eaters.” Of them it may literally be said that they “eat dirt,” for such, in reality, is one of their customs.

This singular practice is chiefly resorted to during those months in the year when the rivers swell to their greatest height, and continue full. At this time all fishing ceases, and the Ottomac finds it difficult to obtain a sufficiency of food. To make up for the deficiency, he fills his stomach with a kind of unctuous clay, which he has already stored up for the emergency, and of which he eats about a pound per diem! It does not constitute his sole diet, but often for several days together it is the only food which passes his lips! There is nothing nourishing in it, – that has been proved by analysis. It merely fills the belly, – producing a satiety, or, at least, giving some sort of relief from the pangs of hunger. Nor has it been observed that the Ottomac grows thin or unhealthy on this unnatural viand: on the contrary, he is one of the most robust and healthy of American Indians.

The earth which the Ottomac eats goes by the name of poya. He does not eat clay of every kind: only a peculiar sort which he finds upon the banks of streams. It is soft and smooth to the touch, and unctuous, like putty. In its natural state it is of a yellowish-grey colour; but, when hardened before the fire, it assumes a tinge of red, owing to the oxide of iron which is in it.

It was for a long time believed that the Ottomac mixed this clay with cassava and turtle-oil, or some other sort of nutritive substance. Even Father Gumilla – who was credulous enough to believe almost anything – could not “swallow” the story of the clay in its natural state, but believed that it was prepared with some combination of farinha or fat. This, however, is not the case. It is a pure earth, containing (according to the analysis of Vauquelin) silex and alumina, with three or four per cent of lime!

This clay the Ottomac stores up, forming it into balls of several inches in diameter; which; being slightly hardened before the fire, he builds into little pyramids, just as cannon-balls are piled in an arsenal or fortress. When the Ottomac wishes to eat of the poya, he softens one of the balls by wetting it; and then, scraping off as much as he may require for his meal, returns the poya to its place on the pyramid.

The dirt-eating does not entirely end with the falling of the waters. The practice has begot a craving for it; and the Ottomac is not contented without a little poya, even when more nutritious food may be obtained in abundance.

This habit of eating earth is not exclusively Ottomac. Other kindred tribes indulge in it, though not to so great an extent; and we find the same unnatural practice among the savages of New Caledonia and the Indian archipelago. It is also common on the west coast of Africa. Humboldt believed it to be exclusively a tropical habit. In this the great philosopher was in error, since it is known to be practised by some tribes of northern Indians on the frigid banks of the Mackenzie River.

When the floods subside, as already stated, the Ottomac lives better. Then he can obtain both fish and turtles in abundance. The former he captures, both with hooks and nets, or shoots with his arrows, when they rise near the surface.

The turtles of the Ottomac rivers are of two kinds the arau and terecay. The former is the one most sought after, as being by far the largest. It is nearly a yard across the back, and weighs from fifty to a hundred pounds. It is a shy creature, and would be difficult to capture, were it not for a habit it has of raising its head above the surface of the water, and thus exposing the soft part of its throat to the Indian’s arrow. Even then an arrow might fail to kill it; but the Ottomac takes care to have the point well coated with curare poison, which in a few seconds does its work, and secures the death of the victim.

The terecay is taken in a different and still more ingenious manner. This species, floating along the surface, or even when lying still, presents no mark at which a shaft can be aimed with the slightest chance of success. The sharpest arrow would glance off its flat shelly back as from a surface of steel. In order, therefore, to reach the vitals of his victim, the Indian adopts an expedient, in which he exhibits a dexterity and skill that are truly remarkable.

He aims his shaft, not at the turtle, but up into the air, describing by its course a parabolic curve, and so calculating its velocity and direction that it will drop perpendicularly, point foremost, upon the back of the unsuspecting swimmer, and pierce through the shell right into the vital veins of its body!

It is rare that an Indian will fail in hitting such a mark; and, both on the Orinoco and Amazon, thousands of turtles are obtained in this manner.

The great season of Ottomac festivity and rejoicing, however, is that of the cosecha de tortugas, or “turtle-crop.” As has been already observed, in relation to the manati fishery, it is to him what the harvest-home is to the nations of northern Europe, or the wine-gathering to those of the south; for this is more truly the character of the cosecha. It is then that he is enabled, not only to procure a supply of turtle-oil with which to lubricate his hair and skin, but he obtains enough of this delicious grease wherewith to fry his dried slices of manati and a surplus for sale to the turtle-traders from the Lower Orinoco. In this petty commerce no coin is required; harpoon spears, and arrow-heads of iron, rude knives, and hatchets; but, above all, a few cakes of annotto, chica, and caruto, are bartered in exchange for the turtle-oil. The thick hide of the manati, – for making slave-whips, – the spotted skin of the jaguar, and some other pelts which the chase produces, are also items of his export trade.

The pigments above mentioned have already been procured by the trader, as the export articles of commerce of some other tribe.

The turtle-oil is the product of the eggs of the larger species, – the arau, – known simply by the name tortuga, or turtle. The eggs of the terecay would serve equally as well; but, from a difference in the habit of this animal, its eggs cannot be obtained in sufficient quantity for oil-making. There is no such thing as a grand “cosecha,” or crop of them – for the creature is not gregarious, like its congener, but each female makes her nest apart from the others, in some solitary place, and there brings forth her young brood. Not but that the nests of the terecay are also found and despoiled of their eggs, – but this only occurs at intervals; and as the contents of a single nest would not be sufficient for a “churning,” no “butter” can be made of them. They are, therefore, gathered to be used only as eggs, and not as butter.

The arau, on the other hand, although not gregarious under ordinary circumstances, becomes pre-eminently so during the “laying season.” Then all the turtles in the Orinoco and its tributaries collect into three or four vast gangs – numbering in all over a million of individuals – and proceed to certain points of rendezvous which they have been in the habit of visiting from time immemorial. These common breeding-places are situated between the cataracts of the river and the great bend, where it meets the Apure; and are simply broad beaches of sand, rising with a gentle slope from the edge of the water, and extending for miles along the bank. There are some small rookeries on tributary streams, but the three most noted are upon the shores of the main river, between the points already indicated. That frequented by the Ottomacs is upon an island, at the mouth of the Uruana River, upon which these people principally dwell.

The laying season of the arau turtle varies in the different rivers of tropical America, – occurring in the Amazon and its tributaries at a different period from that of the Orinoco. It is regulated by the rise, or rather the fall of the inundations; and takes place when the waters, at their lowest stage, have laid bare the low sand-banks upon the shores. This occurs (in the Orinoco) in March, and early in this month the great assemblages are complete. For weeks before, the turtles are seen, in all parts of the river near the intended breeding-places, swimming about on the surface, or basking along the banks. As the sun grows stronger, the desire of depositing their eggs increases, – as though the heat had something to do with their fecundation. For some time before the final action, the creatures may be seen ranged in a long line in front of the breeding-place, with their heads and necks held high above the water; as if contemplating their intended nursery, and calculating the dangers to which they may be exposed. It is not without reason that they may dwell upon these. Along the beach stalks the lordly jaguar, waiting to make a meal of the first that may set his foot on terra firma, or to fill his stomach with the delicious “new-laid” eggs. The ugly alligator, too, is equally friand of a gigantic omelette; and not less so the “garzas” (white cranes), and the “zamuros” (black vultures), who hover in hundreds in the air. Here and there, too, may be observed an Indian sentinel, keeping as much as possible out of sight of the turtles themselves, but endeavouring to drive off all other enemies whose presence may give them fear. Should a canoe or boat appear upon the river, it is warned by these sentinels to keep well off from the phalanx of the turtles, – lest these should be disturbed or alarmed, – for the Indian well knows that if anything should occur to produce a panic among the araus, his cosecha would be very much shortened thereby.