Equinoctial Regions of America, vol 2 | Page 2

of Aragua a line drawn through the sources of the
streams flowing into the lake of Valencia. The charts and sections I
have traced of the road from Caracas to Nueva Valencia, and from
Porto Cabello to Villa de Cura, exhibit the whole of these geological
relations.) From this extraordinary configuration of the land, the little
rivers of the valleys of Aragua form a peculiar system, and direct their
course towards a basin closed on all sides. These rivers do not bear
their waters to the ocean; they are collected in a lake; and subject to the
peculiar influence of evaporation, they lose themselves, if we may use

the expression, in the atmosphere. On the existence of rivers and lakes,
the fertility of the soil and the produce of cultivation in these valleys
depend. The aspect of the spot, and the experience of half a century,
have proved that the level of the waters is not invariable; the waste by
evaporation, and the increase from the waters running into the lake, do
not uninterruptedly balance each other. The lake being elevated one
thousand feet above the neighbouring steppes of Calabozo, and one
thousand three hundred and thirty-two feet above the level of the ocean,
it has been suspected that there are subterranean communications and
filtrations. The appearance of new islands, and the gradual retreat of the
waters, have led to the belief that the lake may perhaps, in time,
become entirely dry. An assemblage of physical circumstances so
remarkable was well fitted to fix my attention on those valleys where
the wild beauty of nature is embellished by agricultural industry, and
the arts of rising civilization.
The lake of Valencia, called Tacarigua by the Indians, exceeds in
magnitude the lake of Neufchatel in Switzerland; but its general form
has more resemblance to the lake of Geneva, which is nearly at the
same height above the level of the sea. As the slope of the ground in the
valleys of Aragua tends towards the south and the west, that part of the
basin still covered with water is the nearest to the southern chain of the
mountains of Guigue, of Yusma, and of Guacimo, which stretch
towards the high savannahs of Ocumare. The opposite banks of the lake
of Valencia display a singular contrast; those on the south are desert,
and almost uninhabited, and a screen of high mountains gives them a
gloomy and monotonous aspect. The northern shore on the contrary, is
cheerful, pastoral, and decked with the rich cultivation of the
sugar-cane, coffee-tree, and cotton. Paths bordered with cestrums,
azedaracs, and other shrubs always in flower, cross the plain, and join
the scattered farms. Every house is surrounded by clumps of trees. The
ceiba with its large yellow flowers* (* Carnes tollendas, Bombax
hibiscifolius.) gives a peculiar character to the landscape, mingling its
branches with those of the purple erythrina. This mixture of vivid
vegetable colours contrasts finely with the uniform tint of an unclouded
sky. In the season of drought, where the burning soil is covered with an
undulating vapour, artificial irrigations preserve verdure and promote
fertility. Here and there the granite rock pierces through the cultivated

ground. Enormous stony masses rise abruptly in the midst of the valley.
Bare and forked, they nourish a few succulent plants, which prepare
mould for future ages. Often on the summit of these lonely hills may be
seen a fig-tree or a clusia with fleshy leaves, which has fixed its roots in
the rock, and towers over the landscape. With their dead and withered
branches, these trees look like signals erected on a steep cliff. The form
of these mounts unfolds the secret of their ancient origin; for when the
whole of this valley was filled with water, and the waves beat at the
foot of the peaks of Mariara (the Devil's Nook* (* El Rincon del
Diablo.)) and the chain of the coast, these rocky hills were shoals or
islets.
These features of a rich landscape, these contrasts between the two
banks of the lake of Valencia, often reminded me of the Pays de Vaud,
where the soil, everywhere cultivated, and everywhere fertile, offers the
husbandman, the shepherd, and the vine-dresser, the secure fruit of
their labours, while, on the opposite side, Chablais presents only a
mountainous and half-desert country. In these distant climes
surrounded by exotic productions, I loved to recall to mind the
enchanting descriptions with which the aspect of the Leman lake and
the rocks of La Meillerie inspired a great writer. Now, while in the
centre of civilized Europe, I endeavour in my turn to paint the scenes of
the New World, I do not imagine I present the reader with clearer
images, or more precise ideas, by comparing our landscapes with those
of the equinoctial regions. It