Early next morning, January 2, we started from the village, and, after a short ride across the plain, reached the river Tua, at the house of a small cattle-ranch called Santa Rosa del Tua.
The owner of the premises welcomed us most hospitably, and, to our joy, placed at our disposal two small canoes. No others were to be found there at the moment. However, they were large enough to carry us and our belongings, and accordingly we made ready for an early start next day.
The houses--or what serve for houses in the _llanos_--are built on the most primitive architectural principles. Poles, varying in thickness and in length, according to the proportions of the desired structure, are sunk into the ground at convenient distances, following the lines either of a perfect square or of a rectangle. Cross-beams are nailed or tied to the vertical poles at the required height; in the latter case the vertical poles are grooved, so as to give additional support. From the cross-beams on either side other beams are thrown, slanting so as to meet in the centre, thus forming the basis of the roof, which is again covered with reeds, upon which are placed several layers of palm-leaves, fastened by means of thin ropes to the slanting beams and poles; and thus the roof is completed. This finishes the house for use during the dry season.
During the wet season the sides are covered in the same fashion as the roof. The palm-leaf most used is that of the _moriche_, which abounds in the _llanos_.
When lying in the hammock during the dry season one feels the breath of the breeze as it blows across the plain, and may see the stars twinkling in the deep blue dome of heaven, like far-off tapers. The _llaneros_, or inhabitants of the plains, prefer to sleep in the open air, even without palm-leaf roofing above their heads. It is as though they felt imprisoned indoors, and pined for the ampler ether.
Here we had thus reached the last stage of our land journey. The real voyage was about to begin.
The reader who has followed me thus far will have gathered that there were three of us in this expedition--Alex, Raoul, and myself. With us came our servant Fermin, who adapted himself to the most urgent requirements, being now muleteer, now valet, now cook. Leal had engaged the services of several _peones_ to paddle the canoes when we reached the Tua River; these numbered seventeen, so that, including Leal and ourselves, we formed a group of twenty-two men. The canoes were so small that we were packed like herrings, but, as it was impossible to obtain others, we had to make the best of them.