mavacure four or five lines in diameter, are scraped with a knife; and the bark that comes off is bruised, and reduced into very thin filaments, on the stone employed for grinding cassava. The venomous juice being yellow, the whole fibrous mass takes this colour. It is thrown into a funnel nine inches high, with an opening four inches wide. This funnel was, of all the instruments of the Indian laboratory, that of which the master of poison seemed to be most proud. He asked us repeatedly, if por allà (down yonder, that is in Europe) we had ever seen any thing to be compared to his empudo. It was a leaf of the plantain-tree rolled up in the form of a cone, and placed in another stronger cone made of the leaves of the palm-tree. The whole of this apparatus was supported by slight framework made of the petioli and ribs of palm-leaves. A cold infusion is first prepared by pouring water on the fibrous matter, which is the ground bark of the mavacure. A yellowish water filters during several hours, drop by drop, through the leafy funnel. This filtered water is the venomous liquor, but it acquires strength only when it is concentrated by evaporation, like molasses in a large earthen pot. The Indian from time to time invited us to taste the liquid; its taste, more or less bitter, decides when the concentration by fire has been carried sufficiently far. There is no danger in this operation, the curare being deleterious only when it comes into immediate contact with the blood. vapours, therefore, that are disengaged from the pans, are not hurtful, notwithstanding what has been asserted on this point by the missionaries of the Oroonoko. Fontana, in his fine experiments on the poison of the ticunas of the river of Amazons, long ago proved, that the vapours rising from this poison, when thrown on burning charcoal, may be inhaled without apprehension; and that it is false as M. de la Condamine has announced, that Indian women, when condemned to death, have been killed by the vapours of the poison of the ticunas."

The

The juice is thickened with a glutinous substance to cause it to stick to

the darts, which it renders mortal; but taken internally, the Indians consider the curare to be an excellent stomachic. "Scarcely a fowl is eaten (adds our author,) on the banks of the Oroonoko, which has not been killed with a poisoned arrow. The missionaries pretend, that the flesh of animals is never so good as when these means are employed. Father Zea, who accompanied us, though ill of a tertian fever, caused every morning the live fowl allotted for our repast to be brought to his hammock, together with an arrow. Notwithstanding his habitual state of weakness, he would not confide this operation, to which he attached great importance, to any other person.— Large birds, a guan (pava de monte) for instance, or curassoa (alector,) when wounded in the thigh, perish in two or three minutes; but it is often ten or twelve before a pig or a pecari expires."

M. Humboldt does not seem to be acquainted with any certain antidote, if such exists, to this fatal poison. Sugar, garlic, the muriate of soda, &c. are mentioned doubtingly. In London, some very curious experiments were tried on animals, somewhat resembling those used to restore suspended animation by drowning. By keeping up a constant motion of the lungs (by inflation with bellows and expiration through pressure,) for many hours, it was supposed that the creature apparently killed by the curare would revive: we are not informed whether the operation ever succeeded, but we believe that several dead horses and asses refused to come to life again! But to return to the narrative.

"The old Indian, who was called the master of poison, seemed flattered by the interest we had taken in his chemical processes. He found us sufficiently intelligent to have no doubt that we knew how to make soap, and, next to the fabrication of curare, this art appeared to him one of the finest inventions of the human mind. When the liquid poison was poured into the vessels prepared for this purpose, we accompanied the Indian to the festival of the juvias. The harvest of juvias, or fruits of the bertholletia excelsa,

was celebrated by dancing, and the excesses of the most savage intoxication. The hut, where the natives were assembled, displayed,during several days, a very singular aspect. There was neither table nor bench, but large roasted monkeys, blackened by smoke, were ranged in order, resting against the wall. These were the marimondes (ateles belzebuth,) and those bearded monkeys called capuchins, which must not be confounded with the weeper, or sai (simia capucina of Buffon.) The manner of roasting these anthropomorphous animals contributes singularly to render their appearance disagreeable in the eyes of civilized man. A little grating or lattice of very hard wood is formed, and raised one foot from the ground. The monkey is skinned, and bent into a sitting posture; the head generally resting on the arms, which are meagre and long; but sometimes these are crossed behind the back. When it is tied on the grating, a very clear fire is kindled below. The monkey, enveloped in smoke and flame, is broiled and blackened at the same time. On seeing the natives devour the arm or leg of a roasted monkey, it is difficult not to believe, that this habit of eating animals, that so much resemble man in their physical organization, has, in a certain degree, contributed to diminish the horror of anthropophagy among savages. Roasted monkeys, particularly those that have a very round head, display a hideous resemblance to a child; the Europeans therefore, who are obliged to feed on quadrumanes, prefer separating the head and the hands, and serve up only the rest of the animal at their tables. The flesh of monkeys is so lean and dry, that Mr. Bonpland has preserved in his collections at Paris an arm and hand, which had been broiled over the fire at Esmeralda; and no smell arises from them after a great number of years.

"We saw the Indians dance. The monotony of this dance is increased by the women not daring to take a part in it.

The men, young and old, form a circle, holding each other's hands, and turn sometimes to the right, and sometimes to the left, for whole hours, with

silent gravity.

Most frequently the dancers themselves are the musicians. Feeble sounds, drawn from a series of reeds of different lengths, form a slow and plaintive accompaniment. The first dancer, to mark the time, bends both knees in a kind of cadence.Sometimes they all make a pause in their places, and execute little oscillatory movements, bending the body from one side to the other. These reeds, ranged in a line, and fastened together, resemble the pipe of Pan, as we find it represented in the bacchanalian processions on Grecian vases. To unite reeds of different lengths, and make them sound in succession by passing them before the lips, is a simple idea, and naturally presented itself to every nation. We were surprised to see with what promptitude the young Indians constructed and tuned these pipes, when they found reeds (carices) on the bank of the river. Men, in a state of nature, in every zone, make great use of these gramina with high stalks. The Greeks said with truth, that reeds had contributed to subjugate nations by furnishing arrows, to soften men's manners by the charms of music, and to unfold their understanding by affording the first instruments for tracing letters. These different uses of reeds mark in some sort three different periods in the life of nations. We must admit, that the tribes of the Oroonoko are found at the first step of dawning civilization. The reed serves them only as an instrument of war and of hunting; and the Pan's pipes, of which we have spoken, have not yet, on those distant shores, yielded sounds capable of awakening mild and humane feelings."

Mr. H. gives an interesting account of the Juvia, (chesnut-trees,) the harvested fruits of which cause the natives to rejoice so much; but there is another tree, the character of which is still more curious. It is thus described :

The

"We saw on the slope of the Cerra Duida shirt trees fifty feet high. Indians cut off cylindrical pieces two feet in diameter, from which they peel the red and fibrous bark, without making any longitudinal incision. This bark affords them a sort of garment,

which resembles sacks of a very coarse texture, and without a seam. The upper opening serves for the head: and two lateral holes are cut to admit the arms. The natives wear these shirts of marima in the rainy season: they have the form of the ponchos and ruanas of cotton, which are so common in New Grenada, at Quito, and in Peru. As in these climates the riches and beneficence of Nature are regarded as the primary causes of the indolence of the inhabitants, the missionaries do not fail to say, in showing the shirts of marima, in the forests of the Oroonoko, garments are found ready made on the trees.' We may add to this tale of the shirts the pointed caps, which the spathes of certain palm-trees furnish, and which resemble coarse net-work.

"At the festival of which we were spectators, the women were excluded from the dance, and every sort of public rejoicing; they were daily occupied in serving the men with roasted monkey, fermented liquors, and the palm

WE

cabbage. I mention this last production, which has the taste of our cauliflowers, because in no other country had we seen specimens of such an immense size. The leaves that are not unfolded are counfounded with the young stem, and we measured cylinders of six feet long and five inches in diameter. Another substance, which is much more nutritive, is obtained from the animal kingdom: this is fish flour. The Indians in all the Upper Oroonoko fry fish, dry them in the sun, and reduce them to powder without separating the bones. I have seen masses of fifty or sixty pounds of this flour, which resembles that of cassava. When it is wanted for eating, it is mixed with water, and reduced to a paste. In every climate the abundance of fish has led to the invention of the same means of preserving them. Pliny and Diodorus Siculus have described the fish bread of the ichthyophagous nations, that dwelt on the Persian gulf, and the shores of the Red Sea."

April 5, 1820.

E are now at Rysewick, about three miles from Batavia, which renders our situation more healthy; for my part I have not yet felt the heat more oppressive here than upon a hot summer's day in England, and in some parts of the day it is even cooler. This is owing to the west or wet monsoon, which generally commences about the end of November, and continues till March or April. During this season the inhabitants are exposed to sharp winds and violent torrents of rain. Thunder storms, accompanied with vivid lightning, are very frequent, especially towards the close of the monsoon. Batavia is very fertile; the whole year is one perpetual spring; the interior is quite the garden of the east; fruit is abundant, but few are equal in flavour with that produced in England.

Our house is surrounded with cocoa

nut trees and plantains, two of the standing fruits of the country, and of the greatest importance to the natives, as with the addition of rice and salt they supply them with almost every thing which they deem the necessaries of life. Cocoa-nut trees grow in almost every field around us; however, the table of an European does not seem complete without a dish of boiled rice and currie, both for breakfast and dinner. We lately purchased a milch goat with a kid for two rupees and a half, and eight fowls may be had for a rupee. Pork is not difficult to obtain, but other meat is scarce, and not equal to what we have in England. The cows are very poor looking animals, and yield very little milk; goats are substitutes both for sheep and cows. Butter is extravagantly dear, and good cheese is a scarce article. Wines are quite moderate; the Cape wine is nine rupees the dozen. As to our situation, we reside