CHAPTER XXI

SOME BRITISH NATURALISTS IN SOUTH AMERICA

Tropical forests-Life and torments in the South American jungle-Two sides of the picture-Qualities essential to the naturalist-Charles Waterton-Some salient characteristics-Waterton's home life-His eccentricities and pursuits on his own estate-Waterton in the Guiana forest-Raleigh's description of that country-Stoicism exhibited by Waterton-Unenterprising vampire bats-Some instances of the naturalist's enthusiasm—Adventures with giant snakes-How he rode an alligator-His own account of the encounter-Methods by which he fought fever-Waterton's death-Charles Darwin-The voyage of the Beagle-Scope of Darwin's travels in South America-His experiences in the south of the continent-Some notable fossil discoveries-Intercourse with the Fuegians-Narrow escape of a missionary-Darwin on the Pacific coast-The country dealt with by Bates and Wallace-Mystery of the Amazon Valley-Henry Bates as a naturalist-His work and enthusiasm-Tale of a gigantic spiderImaginary perils and real dangers-The noises of a tropical forestThe menace of nature and its creatures-Various diseases, including yellow fever, undermine Bates's health-His departure from South America-Regrets on sailing-Expression of his subsequent views— A. R. Wallace-His experiences on the Amazon-Incidents during the canoe voyages-Perils of the streams-Difficulties with Indian crews-Insect plagues-Encounter with a jaguar-Ultimate triumph of the climate-Wallace's homeward voyage-Loss of the vessel by fire-Destruction of the naturalist's collections-Richard SpruceAdventures of a keen botanist-His early career-An adventure at Pará-His experiences during an attack of fever-Murderous Indians -An uncomfortable British assistant-Encounter with a condorBotanical excursions in Venezuela, the Orinoco basin, and the Ecuadorean Andes-Long-lived Englishmen-Other naturalists.

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HERE is something unusually seductive in the mental picturings of a tropical forest. That these tremendous hotbeds of vegetation possess an extraordinary charm of their own is undeniable. Nevertheless their greatest glamour probably haunts those who have never trodden them.

No doubt there are many who picture the tropical forests much as the hothouses at Kew Gardens, with the glass walls abolished and the interior continued indefinitely! In some respects they might not be far wrong— provided that in their mind they raised the roof indefinitely, increased the size of most of the growths a dozen fold, and flung one and all close into each other's leafy arms, thus making a most gigantic tangle, the lianas winding themselves everywhere in clinging confusion.

But there are many objects which the stay-at-home dreamer-probably lounging in placid and secure ease on a wholesome and shaven lawn-would have to add to this. There are the hidden pitfalls of the ground; there are the leaf-concealed stumps and branches which wound and bruise the shins and ankles, and there are the great thorns which lie in wait to tear the flesh remorselessly.

This is not all. By no means! There are many worse things. There is the poisonous snake which lurks in the undergrowth; there are the great and little ants on the boughs which resent the approach of an unconscious human hand by a bite as painful as living fire; there are innumerable flies whose vicious little fangs draw blood.

After all this it may seem an unnecessary piling up of horrors to add to the list the droning song of the intolerably active swarms of mosquitos, the burrowing attentions of the unpleasant "jigger," which loves to lay its eggs in the flesh under the human toe-nail, and the most fateful curse of all-the malaria; the beri-beri, blackwater, and yellow fevers, whose dreadful shadows sit brooding all the time over the jungle.

But it is impossible to pass any of these by. For they -all the foregoing, and many more-are there, as large as life and as grim as death, in the tropical forests of South America. They constitute the netherworld of the jungle; they show the reverse of that picture which is made up of quaint monkeys, brilliant birds, wonderfully gorgeous butterflies, luminous insects that glow at night

like lighthouses at sea, and blossoms of a size and shape that have to be seen to be believed in by the average person brought up in northern Europe.

It is only the possessor of rather a special temperament who can take up with success the calling of a naturalist in a tropical country. There are certain qualities essential to the life, and he who does not possess them might as well dig his grave as soon as he enters the forest and so save himself further trouble; because he will want it soon enough.

Without a doubt the first of these qualities is enthusiasm. Perhaps one might say that it is the last as well; because that particular virtue seems to cover all the rest. Decidedly enthusiasm here includes fearlessness, unceasing optimism, limitless patience, the keen power of observation, and that wondering love of creatures and things which is characteristic of all children, and which so often atrophies and dies when childhood itself is fading into a mere memory.

In no one have these various qualities been more marked than in Charles Waterton, the first notable British naturalist to tread the tropical forests of South America. But in addition to these ordinary and essential qualities of the naturalist, Waterton possessed many more. He was in the first place an all-round sportsman; he possessed a keen sense of humor, a wide knowledge of the classics, and a peculiarly genial temperament. Had not the term been so abused, one would have rejoiced to call Charles Waterton "a fine old English gentleman," as indeed he

was.

Waterton's wanderings were entirely unconnected with any pecuniary benefit to himself. The squire of his neighborhood and the owner of that fine place, Walton Hall in Yorkshire, he could have lived a luxurious life had he wished. But though Waterton rode hard to hounds and played very thoroughly the part of a country gentleman, he utterly despised a life of ease. His sleep

ing room at Walton Hall possessed no carpet, not even a bed! When the Squire of Walton felt inclined to sleepwhich he usually did in summer as soon as it was dark, rising again at three o'clock in the morning-he wrapped a blanket round him, lay down on the bare boards, and placed his head on the block of oak which always served him for a pillow.

This habit will give some idea of the peculiarity of Waterton's temperament. His sympathy with the bright hues of nature was such that on no occasion whatever-even when convention most strongly demanded it -was he prevailed on to wear so somber a thing as a black coat. From his boyhood he had proved himself devoted to the study of wild creatures of all kinds, but especially to that of birds, and, later, he undertook many experiments in the way of protection and refuges for these creatures. One of these was the nailing of dummy wooden pheasants to the trees of his preserves, having persuaded the live and genuine birds to roost nearer home. So when of a night on these occasions he would hear the distant shots of the poachers, he would chuckle to himself, knowing well enough that the marauders were getting more and more dumbfounded at the sight of those dimly seen sitting pheasants which obstinately refused to drop from their branches, even when pumped full of lead!

But it was in South America that Waterton was able to give his nature-loving propensities the fullest play. The Guiana forest was his favorite hunting ground, and there he roamed, perfectly at home with all the creatures, beloved by the Indians, and very much respected by the Portuguese when he happened to cross the border into Brazil, the fact of his being a Roman Catholic no doubt assisting him in this latter intercourse.

His roamings took him over much of that very country that had so enchanted Raleigh more than two centuries previously, and of which the Elizabethan had said: "There is no country which yieldeth more pleasure to the