In the afternoon, just as we reached the mouth of the little river that flows by Montealegre, a violent storm came on suddenly, producing a heavy sea, and nearly capsizing our boat, which the men did not very well know how to manage; but, after being some time in considerable danger, we got safely into smooth water, and, after about two hours' rowing up a winding stream, reached the village. The banks were mostly open, grassy, and half-flooded, with clumps of trees at intervals. Near the village was a range of high rocks, of a fine red and yellow colour, which we afterwards found to be merely indurated clay, in some places very hard, in others soft and friable: they were clothed with wood to their summits, and had a very picturesque appearance.
The village of Montealegre is situated on a hill about a quarter of a mile from the water's edge. The ascent to it is up a shallow ravine, and the path is entirely covered with deep, loose sand, which makes the walk a very laborious one. On each side are numbers of large cactus-plants, of the branched candelabrum form, and twenty to thirty feet high: they grow in immense masses, having great woody stems as thick as a man's body, and were quite a novel feature in the landscape. The village itself forms a spacious square, in which the most conspicuous object is the skeleton of a large and handsome church of dark sandstone, which was commenced about twenty years ago, when the place was more populous and thriving, and before the revolutions which did so much injury to the province; but there is little prospect of its ever being finished. The present church is a low, thatched, barn-like edifice, and most of the houses are equally poor in their appearance. There are no neat enclosures or gardens,—nothing but weeds and rubbish on every side, with sometimes a few rotten palings round a corral for cattle.
The trade of this place is in cacao, fish, calabashes, and cattle. The cacao is grown on the low lands along the banks of the rivers. It is here planted on cleared ground fully exposed to the sun, and does not seem to thrive so well as when in the shade of the partially cleared forest, which is the plan we had seen adopted in the Tocantíns. When an Indian can get a few thousand cacao-trees planted, he passes an idle, quiet, contented life: all he has to do is to weed under the trees two or three times in the year, and to gather and dry the seeds. The fruit of the cacao-tree is of an oblong shape, about five inches long, and with faint longitudinal ribs. It is of a green colour, but turns yellow as it ripens, and it grows on the stem and larger branches by a short strong stalk, never on the smaller twigs; it grows so firmly, that it will never fall off, but, if left, will entirely rot away on the tree. The outer covering is hard and rather woody. Within is a mass of seeds, which are the cacao-nuts, covered with a pure white pulp, which has a pleasant sub-acid taste, and when rubbed off in water and sweetened, forms an agreeable and favourite drink. In preparing the cacao, this pulp is not washed off, but the whole is laid in the sun to dry. This requires some care, for if wetted by rain or dew it moulds and is spoilt: on large cacao plantations they have a drying-frame running on rollers, so that it can be pushed under a shed every night or on the approach of rain. The price of good cacao is about 3s. for an arroba (thirty-two pounds).
The fish are the pirarucú, which abound in all the lakes here, and give plenty of employment to the Indians in the dry season. The cattle estates are situated at the base of the adjacent serras, where there is a scanty pasture, but in the dry season the marshes which extend to the Amazon afford abundance of herbage. The calabashes, or "cuyas," are made in great quantities, and exported to Pará and all parts of the Amazon. They are very neatly finished, scraped thin, and either stained of a shining black or painted in brilliant colours and gilt. The designs are fanciful, with sometimes figures of birds and animals, and are filled up with much taste and regularity. The Indian women make the colours themselves from various vegetable juices or from the yellow earth, and they are so permanent that the vessels may be constantly wetted for a long time without injury. There is no other place on the whole Amazon where painted calabashes are made with such taste and brilliancy of colour.
We brought a letter of introduction to Senhor Nunez, a Frenchman from Cayenne, who has a small shop in the village; and he soon procured us an empty house, to which we had our things carried. It consisted of two good parlours, several small sleeping-rooms, a large verandah, and a closed yard behind. We were warned that the mosquitoes were here very annoying, and we soon found them so, for immediately after sunset they poured in upon us in swarms, so that we found them unbearable, and were obliged to rush into our sleeping-rooms, which we had kept carefully closed. Here we had some respite for a time, but they soon found their way in at the cracks and keyholes, and made us very restless and uncomfortable all the rest of the night.
After a few days' residence we found them more tormenting than ever, rendering it quite impossible for us to sit down to read or write after sunset. The people here all use cow-dung burnt at their doors to keep away the "praga," or plague, as they very truly call them, it being the only thing that has any effect. Having now got an Indian to cook for us, we every afternoon sent him to gather a basket of this necessary article, and just before sunset we lighted an old earthen pan full of it at our bedroom door, in the verandah, so as to get as much smoke as possible, by means of which we could, by walking about, pass an hour pretty comfortably. In the evening every house and cottage has its pan of burning dung, which gives rather an agreeable odour; and as there are plenty of cows and cattle about, this necessary of life is always to be procured.
We found the country here an undulating, sandy plain, in some places thickly covered with bushes, in others with larger scattered trees. Along the banks of the streams were some flat places and steep banks, all thickly clothed with wood, while at a distance of ten or twelve miles were several fine rocky mountains, on one of which was a curious and conspicuous pillar of rock, with a flat overhanging cap, something like a tall mushroom. The cactus before mentioned was everywhere abundant, and often in the most magnificent and lofty masses. Pine-apples were found growing wild in large beds in the thickets, and the cashew was also general. On the rocky slopes above the river were numerous springs gushing out, where on the moistened rock grew curious ferns and mosses and pretty creeping plants. These shady groves formed our best collecting-ground for insects. Here we first found the beautiful indigo-blue butterfly, the Callithea Leprieurii, sitting on leaves in the shade, and afterwards more abundantly on stems from which a black gummy sap was exuding. Here were also many trogons and jacamars, and a curious creeper, with a long sickle-shaped bill (Dendrocolaptes sp.).
We much wished to visit the serras, which daily seemed more inviting; and the account we had heard of the Indian picture-writings which exist there increased our curiosity. We accordingly borrowed a small montaria of Senhor Nunez, as we had to go five or six miles by water to a cattle estate situated at the foot of the mountain. Our canoe was furnished with a mat sail, made of strips of the bark of a large water-plant, and as soon as we got away from the village we hoisted it and were carried briskly along: it was rather nervous work at times, as the sail was far too heavy for the canoe, and rendered it very unsteady whenever there came a little extra puff of wind. Numerous divers and darters were swimming in the river or seated upon trees on its banks. We tried to shoot some, but without effect, as these birds are so active in the water that even when wounded they dive and swim beneath it so rapidly as to render all attempt to capture them fruitless. We then entered a narrower branch of the stream, which we soon found to be much impeded by water-plants growing in large floating masses. We had now no wind, and had to paddle, till the weeds blocked up the channel so completely that we could get on no further. Our Indian then went ashore, and cut two long poles with forked ends, and with these we commenced pushing on the canoe by means of the great masses of weeds, which were so thick and solid as to afford a tolerable hold to the fork. Now and then we would emerge into clear water, and could row a little among pretty Utricularias and Pontederias. Then, again, we would enter into a mass of weeds and tall grass, completely filling up the channel and rising above our heads, through which we almost despaired to make our way; the grass, too, cut the hands severely if it merely brushed against them. On the banks was now to be seen a vast extent of flat, grassy campo, half water and half land, which in the rainy season is a complete lake. After forcing our way with great labour for several miles, we at length reached the cattle estate, where we were kindly received by the owner, to whom we had a note of introduction.
The house was situated close to the great marsh which extends from the Amazon to the serras. It was built of mud, with two or three rooms, and an open shed adjoining, used as kitchen and sleeping-place for the Indians. A corral—a square enclosed yard for the cattle—was near, and at the back rose the sloping ground towards the mountain. All around were interspersed thickets and open ground, and the picturesque masses of cactus rose in every direction. We strolled about a little before dark, and shot a couple of pretty green purple-shouldered paroquets, one of the smallest species that inhabits the country. When we returned to the house we were offered some new milk, and then sat outside the door looking at the strange accoutrements of some of the herdsmen, who were going on horseback to some distant part of the estate. Their curious and clumsy-looking wooden saddles, huge stirrups, long lassos, and leather ammunition-bags, with long guns and powder-horns of formidable dimensions, made them striking figures, and the more picturesque from their being dusky mulattoes. As soon as the sun set the mosquitoes made their appearance, and the doors of the house were shut, a pan of cow-dung lighted outside, and a lamp within. After a short time supper was announced, and we sat down on a mat on the floor to an excellent repast of turtle, which had been recently brought from the Amazon. We then turned into our hammocks, which were hung across the room in every direction. In fact, the house was pretty well occupied before we came, so that we were now rather crowded; but a Brazilian thinks nothing of that, and is used to sleep in company. The doors and windows were well closed, and though rather warm we did not suffer from the mosquitoes, an annoyance to which any other is preferable.
The next morning we prepared for our expedition to the mountain, and as we did not know whether we should have to stay the night, we provided ourselves with sufficient provisions, and a large gourd to carry water. We walked some miles along the side of the marsh, on which were many curious aquatic birds, till we arrived at a deserted cottage, where we made our breakfast, and then turned off by a path through a wood. On passing this we found ourselves at the foot of a steep slope, covered with huge blocks of stone, in the greatest confusion, overgrown with coarse sedges and shrubs, rendering any ascent among them extremely difficult. Just above was the curious pillar we had seen from the village, and which we determined to reach. After a most fatiguing scramble over the rocks and among innumerable chasms, we found ourselves on the platform below the columnar mass, which rises perpendicularly thirty or forty feet, and then hangs over at the top all round in a most curious and fearful manner. Its origin is very plainly to be seen. The pillar is of friable stone, in horizontal layers, and is constantly decaying away by the action of the weather. The top is formed by a stratum of hard crystalline rock, which resists the rain and sun, and is apparently now of the same diameter that the pillar which supports it originally was.
We had thought, looking from below, that we could have proceeded along the ridge of the mountain to the further end, where the cave and picture-writings were to be found. Now, however, we saw the whole summit completely covered with the same gigantic masses of rock and the same coarse rigid vegetation which had rendered our ascent so difficult, and made our proceeding for miles along similar ground quite out of the question. Our only remedy was to descend on the other side into the sandy plain which extended along its base. We first took a good view of the prospect which spread out before us,—a wide undulating plain covered with scattered trees and shrubs, with a yellow sandy soil and a brownish vegetation. Beyond this were seen, stretching out to the horizon, a succession of low conical and oblong hills, studding the distant plain in every direction. Not a house was to be seen, and the picture was one little calculated to impress the mind with a favourable idea of the fertility of the country or the beauty of tropical scenery. Our descent was very precipitous. Winding round chasms, creeping under overhanging rocks, clinging by roots and branches, we at length reached the bottom, and had level ground to walk on.
We now saw the whole side of the mountain, along its summit, split vertically into numerous rude columns, in all of which the action of the atmosphere on the different strata of which they were composed was more or less discernible. They diminished and increased in thickness as the soft and hard beds alternated, and in some places appeared like globes standing on pedestals, or the heads and bodies of huge giants. They did not seem to be prismatic, but to be the result of successive earthquake shocks, producing vertical cracks in cross directions, the action of the sun and rains then widening the fissures and forming completely detached columns.
As we proceeded along the sands we found the heat very oppressive. We had finished the water in our gourd, and knew not where to get more. Our Indian told us there was a spring halfway up the mountain, a little further on, but it might now have failed, as it was the height of the dry season.
We soon came in sight of the spot, and a group of Mauritia palms, which always grow in damp places, as well as some patches of brilliant green herbage, gave us hope. On reaching the palms we found a moist, boggy soil, but such a slow filtering of water among the weeds that it took nearly half an hour to fill our gourd. Seeing a mass of green at the very base of the perpendicular rocks higher up, where the spring appeared to issue, we proceeded there, and found, to our great joy, a little trickle of pure and delightfully cool water, and a shady place where we could rest and eat our lunch in comfort.
We then went on till we arrived where our guide said the cave was situated; but having been there only once he could not find it again, among the confused mass of rock which in several places appeared to present openings, but which on searching the spot deceived us. After various clamberings we gave up the search, and determined to return home and get a better guide another day.
On our way back we passed by a high cliff, on which were some of the picture-writings I had so much wished to see. They were executed in a red tint, produced apparently by rubbing them in with pieces of the rock, which in places is of that colour. They looked quite fresh, and were not at all obliterated by the weather, though no one knows their antiquity. They consisted of various figures, rudely executed, some representing animals, as the alligator and birds, others like some household utensils, and others again circles and mathematical figures, while there were some very complicated and fantastic forms: all were scattered irregularly over the rock to the height of eight or ten feet. The size of most of the figures was from one to two feet.
I took a general sketch of the whole, and some accurate tracings of the more curious single figures, which have unfortunately been since lost. The night felt chilly and damp, and we had nothing to cover ourselves with, or should have slept on the mountain. As it was, we arrived home very tired about eight o'clock, and were soon glad to turn into our hammocks.
The next day Senhor Nunez determined to go with us himself to show us the cave and some more picture-writings, situated in another part of the mountain. We now went on horseback, but could no more find the cave than before, and were forced to send our Indian for an old man who lived a couple of miles off, and who knew the place well. While he was gone, Senhor Nunez went with me to find the picture-writings, which we did after a fatiguing walk. They were situated on a perpendicular rock, rising from the top of a steep, stony slope, which almost deterred me from getting up to them, as I was very tired and thirsty, and there was no water. However, having come on purpose to see them, I was determined to persevere, and soon reached the place. They were much larger than the others, and extended higher up the rock; the figures, too, were all different, consisting principally of large concentric circles, called by the natives the sun and moon, and several others more complicated and three or four feet high. Among them were two dates of years about 1770, in very neat well-formed figures, which I have no doubt were the work of some travellers who wished to show that they knew how the others were executed, and to record the date of their visit. Near some of the higher figures were two or three impressions of hands in the same colour, showing the palm and all the fingers very distinctly, as if the person executing the upper figures had stood on another's shoulders and supported himself with one hand (smeared with the red colour) while he drew with the other. I also took copies of the figures at this place, which, being large and exposed, are visible from a considerable distance round, and are more generally known than the others, which are in a secluded and out-of-the-way situation, and were probably not visited by any European traveller before myself.
We walked some distance further, to get some water, before returning towards the cave. There we found that our guides had arrived, and they soon led us up a steep path to its mouth, which is so well concealed by trees and bushes that our failing to discover it was not to be wondered at. The entrance is a rude archway, fifteen or twenty feet high; but what is most curious is a thin piece of rock which runs completely across the opening, about five feet from the ground, like an irregular flat board. This stone has not fallen into its present position, but is a portion of the solid rock harder than the rest, so that it has resisted the force which cleared away the material above and below it. Inside there is a large irregularly arched chamber, with a smooth sandy floor, and at the end there are openings into other chambers; but as we had not brought candles we could not explore them. There was nothing about the cave at all remarkable, except the flat transverse rock at its mouth. The vegetation around it was by no means luxuriant or beautiful, nor were there any flowers worth noticing. In fact, many of our caves in the limestone districts of England are in every way more picturesque and interesting.
I had heard of a plant growing in the pools in the marsh, which I was convinced must be the Victoria regia. Senhor Nunez told me there were plenty near his house, and early the next morning he sent an Indian to try and get me one. After some search the man found one, with a half-opened flower, and brought it to me. The leaf was about four feet in diameter, and I was much pleased at length to see this celebrated plant; but as it has now become comparatively common in England, it is not necessary for me to describe it. It is found all over the Amazon district, but rarely or never in the river itself. It seems to delight in still waters, growing in inlets, lakes, or very quiet branches of the river, fully exposed to the sun. Here it grew in the pools left in the bog; but in June the water would be twenty or thirty feet deeper, so its leaf and flower-stalks must increase in length rapidly while the water rises, as they did not seem to be very long now. I took the leaf home, in order to dry some portions of it. It is called by the Indians "Uaupé Japóna" (the Jacana's oven), from the resemblance of the leaf, with its deep rim, to the clay ovens used for making farinha.
As we wished to get home that day, we took leave of our kind host, and again had to pole our way over the grass and weeds in the small stream. It did not, however, now seem so tedious as on our ascent, and we soon got into the open river.
Passing along a sandy shore, our Indian saw signs of turtles' eggs, and immediately jumped out and commenced scraping away the sand, in a very short time turning up a hatful of eggs of the small turtle called "Tracaxá." A little lower down there was an old tree giving a tempting shade, so we made a fire under it, boiled our eggs, made some coffee, and with some farinha and beef we had brought with us made an excellent breakfast. Proceeding on, we fell in with a great number of alligators, of a large size, swimming about in all directions. We fired at some of them, but only succeeded in making them dive rapidly to the bottom. They are much feared by the natives, who never venture far into the water when bathing. In a place where we had bathed a few days previously, we saw one close in shore, and resolved to be more careful for the future, as every year some lives are lost by incautiousness.
After a few days more at the village, we paid a visit to a mandiocca plantation some miles in the interior, where there is a considerable extent of forest-land, and where we therefore expected to find more insects. We went on foot, carrying our rédés, guns, boxes, nets, and other necessaries for a week's stay. On arriving, we found the only accommodation to consist of a little low thatched hut, just large enough to hang our hammocks in, and the only inhabitants four or five Negroes belonging to the place.
However, we soon made ourselves at home, and our little coffee-pot supplied us with an unfailing and refreshing luxury. We found in the forest several scarce butterflies pretty abundant, and among them a new species of Catagramma, which we had only met with very rarely at Pará; trogons and jacamars were also plentiful, but there was not any great variety either of birds or insects. There was no running stream here, but a kind of moist, marshy flat, in which shallow holes were dug and soon became filled with water, whence the only supply of this necessary was obtained.
On returning to the village my brother sprained his leg, which swelled and formed an abscess above the knee, quite preventing him from going out for a fortnight. After some trouble I purchased a small canoe here, in which I intended to return to Santarem, and afterwards proceed up the Amazon to Barra, on the Rio Negro.
A festa took place before we left. The church was decorated with leaves and flowers, and sweetmeats were provided for all visitors. Dancing and drinking then went on all night and during the following day, and we were left to cook our own meals, as our Indian was a performer on the violin, and did not think it at all necessary to ask us in order to absent himself two days. The Indians now came in from all the country round, and I bought a number of the pretty painted calabashes for which this place is celebrated.
Soon after we returned to Santarem, where we found our house occupied, but got another, consisting of two small mud-floored rooms and a yard at the back, situated at the further end of the town. We here engaged an old Negro woman to cook for us, and soon got into a regular routine of living. We rose at six, got ready our collecting-boxes, nets, etc., while our old cook was preparing breakfast, which we took at seven; and having given her money to buy meat and vegetables for dinner, started at eight for a walk of about three miles, to a good collecting-ground we had found below the town.
We continued hard at work till about two or three in the afternoon, generally procuring some new and interesting insects. Here was the haunt of the beautiful Callithea sapphira, one of the most lovely of butterflies, and of numerous curious and brilliant little Erycinidæ. As we returned we stayed to bathe in the Tapajoz, and on arriving at home immediately ate a watermelon, which was always ready for us, and which at that time we found most grateful and refreshing. We then changed our clothes, dined, set out our insects, and in the cool of the evening took tea, and called on or received visits from our Brazilian or English friends—among whom was now Mr. Spruce, the botanist, who arrived here from Pará shortly after we had returned from Montealegre.
The constant hard exercise, pure air, and good living, notwithstanding the intense heat, kept us in the most perfect health, and I have never altogether enjoyed myself so much. In Santarem there is an abundance of beef, fish, milk, and fruits, a dry soil, and clear water,—a conjunction of advantages seldom to be met with in this country. There were some boggy meadows here, more like those of Europe than one often sees so near the equator, on which were growing pretty small Melastomas and other flowers. The paths and campos were covered with flowering myrtles, tall Melastomas, and numbers of passion-flowers, convolvuluses, and bignonias. At the back of the town, a mile or two off, were some bare conical hills, to which I paid some visits. They were entirely formed of scoriæ, and were as barren and uninviting as can possibly be imagined. A curious tidal phenomenon was to be seen here: the tide rises in the Amazon to considerably above Santarem, but it never flows up, the water merely rising and falling. The river Tapajoz had now very little water, and its surface was below the level of the Amazon at high water, so that the tide was every day seen to flow up the Tapajoz, while a hundred yards out in the stream of the Amazon it was still flowing rapidly down.
It was now November, and as some rain had fallen, and gloomy weather had set in, we determined to start for the Rio Negro as soon as we could. Our canoe was at length ready, having taken us a long time to repair the bottom, which was quite rotten. After much delay the Commandante had procured us three Indians, who were to go with us only to Obydos, about three days up the Amazon, and had given us a letter to the authorities there, to furnish us with more. Mr. Spruce had set out for Obydos just a week before us, in a large canoe, the owner of which had offered him a passage. On our arrival we found him unpacking his things, and he told us he had only got there the night previous, having been ten days on a journey which is frequently performed in a day and a night: want of wind was the cause, and the owner of the canoe, who was with them, would not move at night. But to such delays the unfortunate traveller who ventures on the Amazon must make up his mind patiently to submit. Captain Hislop had written to a friend of his to lend us an unoccupied house, where we had to remain several days quite alone, for our Indians, after unloading the canoe, went off immediately, and we could not get others till the Commandante had sent to fetch them from a considerable distance.
We amused ourselves in the forest, where we found insects very abundant, but mostly of species we had before obtained. As our canoe had leaked so much in coming here that we were almost afraid to venture in it, we had it pulled up on the beach, and discovered some of the cracks, which we stopped as well as we could by plugging in cotton dipped in hot pitch. At length we set off again with two Indians, who were to go with us only to Villa Nova, the next town, about four days' voyage from Obydos. As we had only two, we could not do much with the paddles, one being required at the helm; but luckily the wind was strong and steady, and we went on day and night very briskly. We had to cross the river several times, generally at night. The wind created a great swell, and as we dashed along furiously through it, I was rather doubtful of our rotten boat holding together. In four days, however, we reached Villa Nova in safety, and I was very glad to have got so far on our way. We were kindly received on the beach by the priest of the village, Padre Torquato, who invited us in such a pressing manner to stay in his house till we should get men to go on, that we could not refuse. The Commandante, to whom we brought letters, to give us more men, was out at his sitio; they therefore had to be sent after him, and it would probably be several days before we had an answer, and perhaps much longer before the men were procured.
The Padre was a very well-educated and gentlemanly man, and made us as comfortable as he could, though, as he had only two small rooms to share with us, he was putting himself to much inconvenience on our account. He is already known to the English reader from having accompanied Prince Adalbert of Prussia up the Xingu, and he well deserves all the encomiums the Prince has bestowed upon him. He was very fond of enigmas, which he amused himself and his friends by inventing and solving. I much delighted him by turning such of our best as would bear the process into Portuguese; and I also translated for him the old puzzle on the word "tobacco"—in Portuguese, "tabaco," which did just as well—and much pleased him. I took here some fine insects, but it was too late in the season: from July to October Villa Nova would, I have no doubt, be a fine locality for an entomologist.
A week passed away, and the men came not, and as I was very anxious to be off, the Padre agreed with a trader to let me have three of his Indians, he taking instead those that the Commandante would probably soon send for me. One of the Indians, however, did not choose to come, and was driven to the canoe by severe lashes, and at the point of the bayonet. He was very furious and sullen when he came on board, vowing that he would not go with me, and would take vengeance on those who had forced him on board. He complained bitterly of being treated like a slave, and I could not much blame him. I tried what I could to pacify him, offering him good pay and plenty to eat and drink, but to no purpose; he declared he would go back from the first place we stopped at, and kill the man who had struck him. At the same time he was very civil, assuring me that he felt no ill-will against me, as I had had nothing to do with it. It was afternoon when we started, and about sunset we stayed to make supper; and then the ill-used Indian politely wished me good-bye, and taking his bundle of clothes returned through the forest to the village. As I could not go on with two only, I sent one of them back early in the morning to get another in the place of the one who had run away, which he did, and returning about ten o'clock, we pursued our journey.
We went along slowly, now and then sailing, but generally rowing, and suffering much annoyance from the rain, which was almost incessant. The mosquitoes, too, were a great torture: night after night we were kept in a state of feverish irritation, unable to close our eyes for a moment. Our Indians suffered quite as much as ourselves: it is a great mistake to suppose that the mosquitoes do not bite them. You hear them, all night long, slapping on their bare bodies to drive their tormentors off; or they will completely roll themselves up in the sail, suffering the pangs of semi-suffocation to escape from the irritating bites. There are particular spots along the banks of the river where there are no mosquitoes; and no inducement would make our men paddle so hard as the probability of reaching one of these places before midnight, and being enabled to enjoy the comforts of sleep till morning.
Towards the end of December, we reached the little village of Serpa, where we found a festa or procession going on,—a number of women and girls, with ribands and flowers, dancing along to the church with the priest at their head, in a most ludicrous manner. In the evening we went to the house where the dancing took place, and had some wine and sweetmeats. We bought here some coffee and a large basket of plantains. On Christmas day we reached a house where they had just caught a quantity of fish, and we wanted to buy some, which was refused, but they gave us a fine fat piece for our dinner. We bought some eggs, and when we stopped for the day concocted a farinha pudding, and so, with our fish and coffee, made a very tolerable Christmas dinner, while eating which our thoughts turned to our distant home, and to dear friends who at their more luxurious tables would think of us far away upon the Amazon.
CHAPTER VII
BARRA DO RIO NEGRO AND THE SOLIMÕES
Appearance of the Rio Negro—The City of Barra, its Trade and its Inhabitants—Journey up the Rio Negro—The Lingoa Geral—The Umbrella Bird—Mode of Life of the Indians—Return to Barra—Strangers in the City—Visit to the Solimões—The Gapó—Manaquery—Country Life—Curl-crested Araçaris—Vultures and Onças—Tobacco Growing and Manufacture—The Cow-Fish—Senhor Brandaõ—A Fishing Party with Senhor Henrique—Letters from England.
On the 31st of December, 1849, we arrived at the city of Barra on the Rio Negro. On the evening of the 30th the sun had set on the yellow Amazon, but we continued rowing till late at night, when we reached some rocks at the mouth of the Rio Negro, and caught some fine fish in the shallows. In the morning we looked with surprise at the wonderful change in the water around us. We might have fancied ourselves on the river Styx, for it was black as ink in every direction, except where the white sand, seen at the depth of a few feet through its dusky wave, appeared of a golden hue. The water itself is of a pale brown colour, the tinge being just perceptible in a glass, while in deep water it appears jet black, and well deserves its name of Rio Negro—"black river."
We brought letters to Senhor Henrique Antony, an Italian gentleman settled here many years, and the principal merchant in the city; who received us with such hearty hospitality as at once to make us feel at home. He gave us the use of two large rooms in a new house of his own not quite finished, and invited us to take our meals at his table.
The city of Barra do Rio Negro is situated on the east bank of that river, about twelve miles above its junction with the Amazon. It is on uneven ground, about thirty feet above the high-water level, and there are two small streams or gullies running through it, where during the wet season the water rises to a considerable height, and across which are two wooden bridges. The streets are regularly laid out, but quite unpaved, much undulating, and full of holes, so that walking about at night is very unpleasant. The houses are generally of one story, with red-tiled roofs, brick floors, white-and yellow-washed walls, and green doors and shutters; and, when the sun shines, are pretty enough. The "Barra," or fort, is now represented by a fragment of wall and a mound of earth, and there are two churches, but both very poor and far inferior to that of Santarem. The population is five or six thousand, of which the greater part are Indians and half-breeds; in fact, there is probably not a single person born in the place of pure European blood, so completely have the Portuguese amalgamated with the Indians. The trade is chiefly in Brazil-nuts, salsaparilha, and fish; and the imports are European cotton-goods of inferior quality, and quantities of coarse cutlery, beads, mirrors, and other trinkets for the trade with the Indian tribes, of which this is the head-quarters. The distance from Pará is about a thousand miles, and the voyage up in the wet season often takes from two to three months, so that flour, cheese, wine, and other necessaries, are always very dear, and often not to be obtained. The more civilised inhabitants of Barra are all engaged in trade, and have literally no amusements whatever, unless drinking and gambling on a small scale can be so considered: most of them never open a book, or have any mental occupation.
As might be expected, therefore, etiquette in dress is much attended to, and on Sunday at mass all are in full costume. The ladies dress very elegantly in a variety of French muslins and gauzes; they all have fine hair, which they arrange carefully, and ornament with flowers, and never hide it or their faces under caps or bonnets. The gentlemen, who pass all the week in dirty warehouses, in their shirt-sleeves and slippers, are then seen in suits of the finest black, with beaver hats, satin cravats, and patent-leather boots of the smallest dimensions; and then is the fashionable visiting time, when every one goes to see everybody, to talk over the accumulated scandal of the week. Morals in Barra are perhaps at the lowest ebb possible in any civilised community: you will every day hear things commonly talked of, about the most respectable families in the place, which would hardly be credited of the inhabitants of the worst parts of St. Giles's.
The wet season had now set in, and we soon found there was little to be done in collecting birds or insects at Barra. I had been informed that this was the time to find the celebrated umbrella chatterers in plumage, and that they were plentiful in the islands about three days' voyage up the Rio Negro. On communicating to Senhor Henrique my wish to go there, he applied to some of the authorities to furnish me with Indians to make the voyage. When they came, which was after three or four days, I started in my own canoe, leaving my brother H. to pay a visit to an estate in another direction. My voyage occupied three days, and I had a good opportunity of observing the striking difference between this river and the Amazon. Here were no islands of floating grass, no logs and uprooted trees, with their cargoes of gulls, scarcely any stream, and few signs of life in the black and sluggish waters. Yet when there is a storm, there are greater and more dangerous waves than on the Amazon. When the dark clouds above cause the water to appear of a yet more inky blackness, and the rising waves break in white foam over the vast expanse, the scene is gloomy in the extreme.
At Barra the river is about a mile and a half wide. A few miles up it widens considerably, in many places forming deep bays eight or ten miles across. Further on, again, it separates into several channels, divided by innumerable islands, and the total width is probably not less than twenty miles. We crossed where it is four or five miles wide, and then keeping up the left bank we entered among the islands, when the opposite shore was no more seen. We passed many sandy and pebbly beaches, with occasional masses of sandstone and volcanic rock, and a long extent of high and steep gravelly banks, everywhere, except in the most precipitous places, covered with a luxuriant vegetation of shrubs and forest-trees. We saw several cottages, and a village prettily situated on a high, grassy slope, and at length reached Castanheiro, the residence of Senhor Balbino, to whom I brought a letter. After reading it he asked me my intentions, and then promised to get me a good hunter to kill birds and any other animals I wanted.
The house of Senhor Balbino is generally known as the "Sobrado," or upper-storied house, being the only one of the kind out of Barra. It was, however, in rather a dilapidated condition, the ladder which served for stairs wanting two steps, and requiring a great exertion of the muscles of the leg to ascend it. This, Senhor Henrique afterwards informed me, had been in the same state for several years, though Balbino has always a carpenter at work making canoes, who might put in a couple of boards in an hour.
An Indian living near now arrived, and we accompanied him to his house, where I was to find a lodging. It was about half a mile further up the river, at the mouth of a small stream, where there was a little settlement of two or three families. The part which it was proposed I should occupy was a small room with a very steep hill for a floor, and three doorways, two with palm-leaf mats and the other doing duty as a window. No choice being offered me, I at once accepted the use of this apartment, and, my men having now brought on my canoe, I ordered my boxes on shore, hung up my hammock, and at once took possession. The Indians then left me; but a boy lent me by Senhor Henrique remained with me to light a fire and boil my coffee, and prepare dinner when we were so fortunate as to get any. I borrowed a table to work at, but, owing to the great inclination of the ground, nothing that had not a very broad base would stay upon it. The houses here were imbedded in the forest, so that although there were four not twenty yards apart, they were not visible from each other, the space where the forest had been cut down being planted with fruit-trees.
Only one of the men here could speak Portuguese, all the rest using the Indian language, called Lingoa Geral, which I found very difficult to get hold of without any books, though it is an easy and simple language. The word igaripé, applied to all small streams, means "path of the canoe"; tatatinga, smoke, is literally "white fire." Many of the words sound like Greek, as sapucaía, a fowl; apegáua, a man. In the names of animals the same vowel is often repeated, producing a very euphonious effect; as parawá, a parrot; maracajá, a tiger-cat; sucurujú, a poisonous snake. My Indian boy spoke Lingoa Geral and Portuguese, and so with his assistance I got on very well.
The next morning my hunter arrived, and immediately went out in his canoe among the islands, where the umbrella-birds are found. In the evening after dark he returned, bringing one fine specimen. This singular bird is about the size of a raven, and is of a similar colour, but its feathers have a more scaly appearance, from being margined with a different shade of glossy blue. It is also allied to the crows in its structure, being very similar to them in its feet and bill. On its head it bears a crest, different from that of any other bird. It is formed of feathers more than two inches long, very thickly set, and with hairy plumes curving over at the end. These can be laid back so as to be hardly visible, or can be erected and spread out on every side, forming a hemispherical, or rather a hemi-ellipsoidal dome, completely covering the head, and even reaching beyond the point of the beak: the individual feathers then stand out something like the down-bearing seeds of the dandelion. Besides this, there is another ornamental appendage on the breast, formed by a fleshy tubercle, as thick as a quill and an inch and a half long, which hangs down from the neck, and is thickly covered with glossy feathers, forming a large pendent plume or tassel. This also the bird can either press to its breast, so as to be scarcely visible, or can swell out, so as almost to conceal the forepart of its body. In the female the crest and the neck-plume are less developed, and she is altogether a smaller and much less handsome bird. It inhabits the flooded islands of the Rio Negro and the Solimões, never appearing on the mainland. It feeds on fruits, and utters a loud, hoarse cry, like some deep musical instrument; whence its Indian name, Ueramimbé, "trumpet-bird." The whole of the neck, where the plume of feathers springs from, is covered internally with a thick coat of hard, muscular fat, very difficult to be cleaned away,—which, in preparing the skins, must be done, as it would putrefy, and cause the feathers to drop off. The birds are tolerably abundant, but are shy, and perch on the highest trees, and, being very muscular, will not fall unless severely wounded. My hunter worked very perseveringly to get them, going out before daylight and often not returning till nine or ten at night, yet he never brought me more than two at a time, generally only one, and sometimes none.
The only other birds found in the islands were the beautiful and rare little bristle-tailed manakin, and two species of curassow-bird. On the mainland, the white bell-bird was found on the loftiest trees of the forest, almost out of gunshot. Three were brought me, much disfigured with blood, having been shot at four or five times each before they fell. The beautiful trumpeter (Psophia crepitans), a different species from that found at Pará, was plentiful here. A rare little toucan (Pteroglossus Azaræ), and a few parrots, hawks, and Brazilian partridges, were the only other birds we met with.
Insects were by no means abundant, there being few paths in the woods in which to hunt for them or to cause them to accumulate together; for I have invariably found that in an open path through the forest the chequered light and shade causes a variety of plants to spring up and flowers to blow, which in their turn attract a great variety of insects. An open pathway seems to have similar attractions for many kinds of insects to what it has for ourselves. The great blue butterflies, and many smaller ones, will course along it for miles, and if driven into the forest will generally soon return to it again. The gleams of sunshine and the free current of air attract some; others seek the blossoms which there abound; while every particle of animal matter in the pathway is sure to be visited by a number of different species: so that upon the number and extent of the paths and roads which traverse the forest will depend in a great measure the success of the entomologist in these parts of South America.