CHAPTER XVI T THE VENEZUELAN COAST HE only parts of the American continent that Columbus ever saw were a few rods of the Venezuelan coast near the Orinoco delta, where he failed to land, and a portion of the peninsula of Yucatan, which he mistook for the eastern shore of China. He was, however, none the less the real discoverer of the New World, and therefore none the less entitled to give it a name. But following close in his wake came Ojeda, in 1499; and with Ojeda came one Amerigo Vespucci, an Italian pickle-dealer of Seville, who was not even a navigator. His highest naval rank had been that of boatswain's mate on an expedition. which never sailed; and yet "in this humbug-loving world he managed to baptize half the earth with his own dishonest name." After coursing along the portions of the Venezuelan coast which Columbus had discovered the year before, Ojeda passed out of the Gulf of Paria, proceeded westward along the mainland to Cumuna, the oldest European settlement in Venezuela, — and thence to the great bay, or inlet, of Maracaybo. Entering this bay he observed on its half submerged shores an Indian village, the houses of which were built on piles to avoid inundation; and from its fancied resemblance to Venice, he called it Venezuela, or "Little Venice," a name which was subsequently applied to the whole country. Thus it came about that mountainous region as large as Spain and Italy combined, was doomed to bear a name quite as inappropriate as that which the Seville pickle-dealer gave to the whole continent, though it has the merit of being less fraudulent in origin. The waters of Lake Maracaybo cover a vast area, and have an average depth sufficient to float the heaviest ocean steamers at all seasons of the year. The lake is connected by a narrow strait with the gulf of that name, and thence with the Caribbean by another strait some 20 miles long and about 5 miles wide. The entrance to the lake is, however, so obstructed by sand bars that only light draught vessels can pass in and out. The gulf itself is about 150 miles in extent from east to west by about 60 north and south. The city of Maracaybo, situated on the borders of this great lake, and now one of the most important commercial marts of Venezuela, was founded by the Spaniards as early as 1571, and was formerly a walled and well-fortified town. Its present population is somewhere in the neighborhood of 40,000, and comprises every shade of color, from the jetty African to the blond and blue-eyed German. Besides being the natural outlet and market of the vast and productive region of western Venezuela, Maracaybo is the most available port for a large portion of eastern Colombia, and perhaps fully half of what is known in our markets as "Maracaybo coffee" is really a Colombian product. Many years ago - nobody knows just when or why - Maracaybo got a very bad name abroad. It was called "a sickly place," and one European writer (who had possibly seen it once for an hour or so) pronounced it "the graveyard of earthly hopes and fears." Of course he could know very little about it, and like others, merely reiterated an opinion current among those who knew quite as little of the place. The implication is that it never really deserved this bad repute, or, if it ever did, that it deserves it no longer. And this, I think, is true. The rate of mortality is really less there than at Caracas; and yet Caracas enjoys, but perhaps not quite deservedly, the reputation of being "an earthly paradise." The average temperature at Maracaybo is about 80 degrees Fah., which, in this humid atmosphere, is quite oppressive; but the city itself is not unhealthful. It is situated on a sandy plain where there is less malaria and yellow fever than at many of the other Caribbean ports. Still, foreign writers, taking their opinions second hand, persist in calling it "a sickly hole"; and I recall an amusing incident illustrative of this persistent preju A western politician of some local prominence, who had long been pressed upon the attention of our State Department for a consular position in South America, was finally nominated and confirmed as consul to Maracaybo, much to the disgust and discomfiture of the incumbent, who wanted to retain his place. The new consul arrived at his post in midsummer, and became the guest of his predecessor whom he was about to relieve. Discovering a metallic coffin in an obscure closet of his bedroom, he inquired of his host next morning why such an article of furniture should be there. The host was profuse in his apologies, but added by way of explanation that such things were not unusual in Maracaybo, especially during "the fever season, which," said he, "is just now setting in"! The new consul took the return steamer for New York, leaving his predecessor undisturbed. Eastward from Maracaybo, far around the great pen |