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Updated: May 6, 2025
A rumbling noise made us stop and listen attentively, but l'Encuerado, who was more expert than we were in making out distant sounds, told us that it was a torrent. Squirrels gambolled on the branches as we passed by, and toucans seemed to tempt us to stop; but we were all anxious to reach the waterfall. Ere long, oaks and birches, and afterwards guava-trees, surrounded us on every side.
Moreover, it was too late; and I went on dreaming with open eyes, careering on horseback through the savannas, listening at break of day to the prattle of the parrots in the guava-trees, at nightfall to the chirp of the grillos in the cane-fields, or else smoking my cigar, taking my coffee, rocking myself in a hammock in short, enjoying all the delights that are the very heart-blood of a guajiro, and out of the sphere of which he can see but death, or, what is worse to him, the feverish agitation of our Northern society.
The noise of the torrent, which seemed to grow louder, attracted us towards the forest, where the absence of grass and under-wood enabled us to get on faster. The trees grew farther and farther apart, and we again came upon brush-wood, ere long coming out on to a plain, dotted here and there with guava-trees. These trees furnished us with a quantity of green fruit, of which we were all very fond.
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