The species I have seen used for this purpose are Maximiliana regia; Attalea excelsa; and Astrocaryum murumurum.

Cuap. IV. INDIA-RUBBER AND CACAO. 7S

noticed it to be employed by the aborigines. It is said that the Indians were first taught to make syringes of rubber by seeing natural tubes formed by it, when the spontaneously-flowing sap gathered round projecting twigs. Brazilians of all classes still use it extensively in the form of syringes, for injections form a great feature in the popular system of cures; the rubber for this purpose is made into a pear-shaped bottle, and a quill fixed in the long neck.*

September 24th.—Opposite Cameta the islands are all planted with cacao, the tree which yields the chocolate nut. The forest is not cleared for the purpose, but the cacao plants are stuck in here and there almost at random amongst the trees. There are many houses on the banks of the river, all elevated above the swampy soil on wooden piles, and furnished with broad ladders by which to mount to the ground floor. As we passed by in our canoe we could see the people at their occupations in the open verandahs, and in one place saw a ball going on in broad daylight; there were fiddles and guitars hard at work, and a number of lads in white shirts and trousers dancing with brown damsels clad in showy print dresses. The cacao tree produces a curious impression, on account of the flowers and fruit growing directly out of the trunk and branches. There is a whole group of wild fruit trees which have the same habit in this country. In the wildernesses where the cacao is planted, the collecting of the fruit is dangerous from the number of poisonous snakes which inhabit the places. One day, when we were running our montaria to a landing-place, we saw a large serpent on the trees overhead, as we were about to brush past; the boat was stopped just in the nick of time, and Mr. Leavens brought the reptile down with a charge of shot.

September 26th.—At length we got clear of the islands, and saw once more before us the sea-like expanse of waters which forms the mouth of the Tocantins. The river had now sunk to its lowest point, and numbers of fresh-water dolphins were rolling about in shoaly places. There are here two species, one of which was new to science when I sent specimens to England; it is called the Tucuxi (Steno tucuxi of Gray). When it comes to the surface to breathe, it rises horizontally, showing first its back fin; draws an inspiration, and then dives gently down, head foremost. This mode of proceeding distinguishes the Tucuxi at once from the other species, which is called Bouto or porpoise by the natives (Inia Geoffroyi of Desmarets). When this rises, the top of the head is the part first seen; it then blows, and immediately afterwards dips head downwards, its back curving over, exposing successively the whcle dorsal ridge with its fin. It seems thus to pitch heels over head, but does not show the tail fin. Besides this peculiar motion, it is distinguished from the Tucuxi by its habit of generally going in pairs. Both species are exceedingly numerous throughout the Amazons and its larger tributaries, but they are nowhere

India-rubber is now one of the chief articles of export from Para, and the government derives a considerable revenue from it. In value it amounts to one-third the total sum of exports. Thus in 1857 the amount was £139,000, the total exports being £450,720. In 1858, the rubber exported amounted to £123,000 and the total exports to £356,000.:

more plentiful than in the shoaly water at the mouth of the Tocantins, especially in the dry season. In the Upper Amazons a third pale flesh-coloured species is also abundant (the Delphinus pallidus of Gervais). With the exception of a species found in the Ganges, all other varieties of dolphin inhabit exclusively the sea. In the broader parts of the Amazons, from its mouth to a distance of fifteen hundred miles in the interior, one or other of the three kinds here mentioned is always heard rolling, blowing, and snorting, especially at night, and these noises contribute much to the impression of sea-wide vastness and desolation which haunts the traveller. Besides dolphins in the water, frigate birds in the air are characteristic of this lower part of the Tocantins. Flocks of them were seen the last two or three days of our journey, hovering above at an immense height. Towards night we were obliged to cast anchor over a shoal in the middle of the river to await the ebb tide. The wind blew very strongly; and this, together with the incoming flow, caused such a heavy sea that it was impossible to sleep. ‘The vessel rolled and pitched until every bone in our bodies ached with the bumps we received, and we were all more or less seasick. On the following day we entered the Anapu, and on the 30th of September, after threading again the labyrinth of channels communicating between the Tocantins and the Mojt, arrived at Para.

I will now give a short account of Cametda, the principal town on the banks of the Tocantins, which I visited for the second time in June, 1849; Mr. Wallace, in the same month, departing from Para to explore the rivers Guama and Capim. I embarked as passenger in a Cameta trading vessel, the S¢. Join, a small schooner of thirty tons’ burthen. I had learnt by this time that the only way to attain the objects for which I had come to this country was to accustom myself to the ways of life of the humbler classes of the inhabitants. A traveller on the Amazons gains little by being furnished with letters of recommendation to persons of note, for in the great interior wildernesses of forest and river the canoe-men have pretty much their own way; the authorities cannot force them to grant passages or to hire themselves to travellers, and therefore a stranger is obliged to ingratiate himself with them in order to get conveyed from place to place. I thoroughly enjoyed the journey to Cametd; the weather was again beautiful in the extreme. We started from Parad at sunrise on the 8th of June, and on the roth emerged from the narrow channels of the Anapt into the broad Tocantins. The vessel was so full of cargo, that there was no room to sleep in the cabin; so we passed the nights on deck. ‘The captain or supercargo, called in Portuguese cado, was a Mameluco, named Manoel, a quiet, good-humoured person, who treated me with the most unaffected civility during the three days’ journey. The pilot was also a mameluco, named John Mendez, a handsome young fellow, full of life and spirit. He had on board a wire guitar or viola, as it is here called; and in the bright moonlight nights, as we lay at anchor hour after hour waiting for the tide, he enlivened us all with songs and music. He was on the best of terms with the cabo, both sleeping in the same hammock slung between the masts. I passed the nights wrapped in an

old sail outside the roof of the cabin. The crew, five in number, were Indians and half-breeds, all of whom treated their two superiors with the most amusing familiarity, yet I never sailed in a better managed vessel than the St. John. In crossing to Cameta we had to await the flood-tide in a channel called Entre-as-Ilhas, which lies between two islands in mid-river, and John Mendez, being in good tune, gave us an extempore song consisting of a great number of verses. ‘The crew lay about the deck listening, and all joined in the chorus. Some stanzas related to me, telling how I had come all the way from ‘ Ingalaterra” to skin monkeys and birds and catch insects; the last-mentioned employment of course giving ample scope for fun. He passed from this to the subject of political parties in Cameta; and then, as all the hearers were Cametaenses and understood the hits, there were roars of laughter, some of them rolling over and over on the deck, so much were they tickled. Party spirit runs high at Cametda, not merely in connection with local politics, but in relation to affairs of general concern, such as the election of members _ to the Imperial Parliament, and so forth. This political strife is partly attributable to the circumstance that a native of Cameta, Dr. Angelo Custodio Correia, had been in almost every election one of the candi-dates for the representation of the province. I fancied these shrewd but unsophisticated canoe-men saw through the absurdities attending these local contests, and hence their inclination to satirise them; they were, however, evidently partisans of Dr. Angelo. The brother of Dr. Angelo, JoaG Augusto Correia, a distinguished merchant, was an active canvasser. The party of the Correias was the Liberal, or, as it is called throughout Brazil, the Santa Luzia faction; the opposite side, at the head of which was one Pedro Moraes, was the Conservative or Saquarema party. I preserved one of the stanzas of the song, which however, does not contain much point; it ran thus:

Ora pana, tana pana, pana tana, Joao Augusto hé bonito e homem pimpad Mas Pedro hé feio e hum grande ladrao, (Chorus) Ora pana, Xc.

{John Augustus is handsome and as a man ought to be, But Peter is ugly and a great thief. (Chorus) Ora pana, &c.]

The canoe-men of the Amazons have many songs and choruses, with which they are in the habit of relieving the monotony of their slow voyages, and which are known all over the interior. The choruses consist of a simple strain, repeated almost to weariness, and sung generally in unison, but sometimes with an attempt at harmony. There is a wildness and sadness about the tunes which harmonise well with, and in fact are born of, the circumstances of the canoe-man’s life: the echoing channels, the endless gloomy forest, the solemn nights, and the desolate scenes of broad and stormy waters and falling banks. Whether they were invented by the Indians or introduced by the Portuguese it is hard to decide, as many of the customs of the lower classes of Portuguese are so similar to those of the Indians, that they have become

blended with them. One of the commonest songs is very wild and pretty. It has for refrain the words “ Mai, Mai” (‘“‘ Mother, Mother ”), with a long drawl on the second word. The stanzas are very variable. The best wit on board starts the verse, improvising as he goes on, and the others join in the chorus. They all relate to the lonely river life and the events of the voyage: the shoals, the wind; how far they shall go before they stop to sleep, and so forth. The sonorous native names of place, Goajar4, Tucumanduba, etc., add greatly to the charm of the wild music. Sometimes they bring in the stars thus:—

A lua esta sahindo, Mai, Mai! A lua esta sahindo, Mai, Mai! As sete estrallas esta6 chorando, Mai. Mai! Por s’acharem desamparados, Mai, Mai! [The moon is rising, Mother, Mother! The moon is rising, Mother, Mother! The seven stars (Pleiades) are weeping, Mother, Mother! To find themselves forsaken, Mother, Mother!]

I fell asleep about ten o’clock, but at four in the morning John Mendez woke me to enjoy the sight of the little schooner tearing through the waves before a spanking breeze. The night was transparently clear and almost cold, the moon appeared sharply defined against the dark blue sky, and a ridge of foam marked where the prow of the vessel was cleaving its way through the water. The men had made a fire in the galley to make tea of an acid herb, called erva cidreira, a quantity of which they had gathered at the last landing-place, and the flames sparkled cheerily upwards. It is at such times as these that Amazons travelling is enjoyable, and one no longer wonders at the love which many, both natives and strangers, have for this wandering life. The little schooner sped rapidly on, with booms bent and sails stretched to the utmost. Just as day dawned, we ran with scarcely slackened speed into the port of Cametd, and cast anchor.

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