CHAPTER III. 

 A WOMAN'S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 



(By Mary Blair Beebe.) 



THE doings of the creatures in fur, feathers and scales 

 kept us keenly interested from morning to night, yet in 

 our wilderness search there were many unnatural history 

 experiences some disagreeable, others thrilling but all so 

 wholly delightful in their charm of strangeness to the woman 

 who enjoyed them that the picture of our wilderness seems 

 incomplete without them. 



Life on board a Venezuelan sloop is quite unlike any other 

 experience in the world. Neither the woman who sits under 

 the awning of a luxurious yacht nor her more adventurous 

 sister who sails her own catboat over turbulent waters can 

 form any idea of the daily life aboard such a craft. 



The night we set forth in our tiny sloop from the Island of 

 Trinidad, headed for an unexplored part of the Orinoco 

 delta, it was hard to realize that we were at last bound for 

 South America, the land of our dreams. As you know we 

 were, for the present, owners of a sloop flying the Vene- 

 zuelan flag and manned by five men, of whom only the 

 Captain knew a word of English. The charm of exploration 

 and adventure laid a spell upon us both El Senor Natu- 

 ralista and me and we watched in silence the sunset sky 

 and the dim receding shores of Trinidad. 



But there was a certain stern reality about that first night 

 aboard the "Josef a Jacinta" that soon broke in upon our 

 reveries. When we descended to the tiny cabin to unpack, 



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