We begin beneath a splendid arch more than seventy feet high, where a river flows out from Venezuela’s Guacharo cavern. At first, vegetation borders the water. But as we follow the rough riverbed inward, the plants grow thinner and darkness gathers. This is the realm of the Guacharos, nocturnal fruit-eating birds about the size of domestic fowl. They spend the day inside and emerge at night, cracking hard nuts and reeds with powerful beaks. Deeper in, their calls swell into a terrifying chorus. Thousands scream together, and the sound echoes from the cavern walls. About half a mile from the entrance, the river forms a cascade. Local people would go no farther, and the cascade marked the boundary of their exploration. Yet they returned in midsummer to gather the birds’ fat. Using long poles, they broke open nests high in roof-holes, killed the young birds, and collected the layer of fat beneath their bodies. Near the entrance, they melted it in clay pots. The resulting oil was valued for cooking, and the monks at the Caripe convent used no other oil in their kitchen. The cavern’s name, Guacharo, meant “the mine of fat.”
Create your account to keep this answer and continue from it later.
Let's look at alternatives: