The Young Llanero

The Young Llanero
A Story of War and Wild Life in Venezuela
by W.H.G. Kingston
KINGSTON.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD IN SOUTH AMERICA--MY
FATHER'S HISTORY--SENT TO SCHOOL IN ENGLAND--LIFE
AT SCHOOL--SUMMONED BACK TO AMERICA--VOYAGE
WITH MY UNCLE TO JAMAICA--SAIL FOR
VENEZUELA--CHASED BY A SPANISH MAN-OF-WAR--CROSS
THE BAR OF THE MAGDALENA RIVER--DRIVEN ON SHORE
BY A STORM--BOAT NEARLY WRECKED--OUR NIGHT
ENCAMPMENT--REPAIR BOAT--A DEER SHOT--DISTURBED
BY GOAHIRA INDIANS--FLIGHT--PURSUED--REACH THE
PORT OF CERVANOS--MEET TIM MOLLOY--HIS DELIGHT AT
SEEING US--HOSPITABLY RECEIVED BY THE COMMANDANT,
BUT VERY INHOSPITABLY BY THE MOSQUITOES.
I should like to draw a picture, though I may succeed but imperfectly,
of the grand scenery amid which I passed my childhood's days.
Far in the west rose upwards in the intense blue sky the snow-capped
peaks of the Cordilleras, or Andes, of South America, with range
beyond range of lofty mountains intervening, the more distant rugged
and barren, the nearer clothed to their summits with trees, glittering
cascades leaping down their side? from rock to rock; while here and
there could be seen the openings of deep glens, at the bottom of which
copious streams came rushing forth, forming the headwaters of the
mighty Orinoco. Palms and other tropical trees surrounded our house,
which stood on a slightly elevated plateau, below which appeared a

shining lake of considerable dimensions fed by the mountain-streams,
its waters finding an outlet at one end, and from whence they flowed in
a more gentle current towards the western branch of the great river. Far
to the east and north extended a vast plain, in some parts covered with
dense forests, in others presenting an arid desert; while beyond were to
be found the wide-stretching llanos of Venezuela, bordered on the
south by the Orinoco.
The region I have described will be seen marked on the map, in the
more northern part of the South American continent. It is, indeed, a
grand country, abounding in valuable trees of various descriptions, and
wild animals and game of all sorts--jaguars, pumas, tapirs, and
peccaries; reptiles innumerable--alligators, anacondas, rattlesnakes; and
birds of various species, from the majestic condor and towering eagle
down to the diminutive humming-bird. But as I shall have to describe
all sorts of curious adventures, in which they and other animals played
conspicuous parts, I will not further particularise them at present.
As I was born in the country, it may be concluded that my father and
mother resided there. To my father, Barry Desmond, might have been
applied those touching lines of the poet Campbell:--
"There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin, The dew on his thin robe
was heavy and chill; For his country he sighed, when at twilight
repairing To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill. But the day-star
attracted his eyes' sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of
the ocean, Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, He sang the
bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh."
When a very young man,--scarcely eighteen years of age,--being a
friend of Thomas Addis Emmett and Lord Edward Fitzgerald (though
his family were firm Protestants), and carried away by mistaken
patriotism, he had been induced to take a part in the lamentable Irish
rebellion of 1798, which stained their beloved country with blood, and
left her in a far more deplorable condition than she had previously been.
Young as he was, my father had been actively engaged in the various
skirmishes and battles which occurred between the insurgent forces and
the royal troops. He was present at Arklow, Ross, and Vinegar-hill,

where he was wounded; and had it not been for the resolute courage of
a devoted follower, Tim Molloy, he would have fallen into the hands of
the victors. Carried off the field of battle, he was concealed for many
weeks in a mud hut by the faithful Tim; who, when a price was set on
his head, went forth nightly to obtain provisions, and finally assisted
him to reach the coast. He there, accompanied by Tim, embarked on
board a vessel bound for the West Indies; but unable to remain with
safety in any of the English islands, after long wanderings they landed
on the shores of Venezuela, then belonging to the Spaniards. Tim,
fearing that should his beloved master remain at any of their ports the
Spanish authorities might deliver him up to the English Government,
urged him to push farther inland. At length they reached the region I
have described, where their wanderings were over; for my father here
found a fellow-exile, Mr Denis Concannan, who had some years before
arrived in the country and married the daughter of a Spanish hidalgo of
considerable wealth. He was cordially received by Mr Concannan and
his wife, who had several sons and daughters,--one of whom, in the