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every where connected with the idea of death. 

 The Grotto of Caripe is the Tartarus of the 

 Greeks ; and the guacharoes, which hover over 

 the rivulet, uttering plaintive cries, remind us of 

 the Stygian birds. 



At the point where the river forms the sub- 

 terraneous cascade, a hill covered with vegeta- 

 tion, which is opposite the opening of the grotto, 

 presents itself in a very picturesque manner. 

 It appears at the extremity of a straight pas- 

 sage, 240 toises in length. The stalactites, 

 which descend from the vault, and which re- 

 semble columns suspended in the air, display 

 themselves on a back-ground of verdure. The 

 opening of the cavern appeared singularly con- 

 tracted, when we saw it about the middle of the 

 day, illumined by the vivid light reflected at 

 once from the sky, the plants, and the rocks. 

 The distant light of day formed somewhat of 

 magical contrast with the darkness, that sur- 

 rounded us in those vast caverns. We dis- 

 charged our pieces at a venture, wherever the 

 cries of the nocturnal birds, and the flapping of 

 their wings, led us to suspect, that a great num- 

 ber of nests were crowded together. After 

 several fruitless attempts, Mr. Bonpland suc- 

 ceeded in killing a couple of guacharoes, which, 

 dazzled by the light of the torches, seemed to 

 pursue us. This circumstance afforded me the 

 means of drawing this bird, which hitherto had 



