This account disagrees with that of Acunna, the historiographer of Texeira’s expedition, who accompanied him, in 1639, on his return voyage from Quito. Acunna speaks of a very numerous population on the banks of the Amazons,

a small library of natural history books, and a hundredweight of copper money. I engaged, after some trouble, a Mameluco youth to accompany me as servant—a short, fat, yellow-faced boy named Luco, whom I had already employed at Para in collecting. We weighed anchor at night, and, on the following day, found ourselves gliding along the dark-brown waters of the Mojt.

Joad da Cunha, like most of his fellow-countrymen, took matters very easily. He was going to be absent in the interior several years, and therefore intended to diverge from his route to visit his native place, Cametd, and spend a few days with his friends. It seemed not to matter to him that he had a cargo of merchandise, vessel, and crew of twelve persons, which required an economical use of time; ‘‘ pleasure first and business afterwards ” appeared to be his maxim. We stayed at Cameta twelve days. The chief motive for prolonging the stay to this extent was a festival at the Aldeia, two miles below Cameta, which was to commence on the 21st, and which my friend wished to take part in. On the day of the festival the schooner was sent down to anchor off the Aldeia, and master and men gave themselves up to revelry. In the evening a strong breeze sprang up, and orders were given to embark. We scrambled down in the dark through the thickets of cacao, orange, and coffee trees which clothed the high bank, and, after running great risk of being swamped by the heavy sea in the crowded montaria, got all aboard by nine o’clock. We made all sail amidst the “ adeos ” shouted to us by Indian and mulatto sweethearts from the top of the bank, and, tide and wind being favourable, were soon miles away.

Our crew consistéd, as already mentioned, of twelve persons. One was a young Portuguese from the province of Traz os Montes, a pretty sample of the kind of emigrants which Portugal sends to Brazil. He was two or three and twenty years of age, and had been about two years in the country, dressing and living like the Indians, to whom he was certainly inferior in manners. He could not read or write, whereas one at least of our Tapuyos had both accomplishments. He had a little wooden image of Nossa Senhora in his rough wooden clothes-chest, and to this he always had recourse when any squall arose, or when we got aground ona shoal. Another of our sailors was a tawny white of Cameta; the rest were Indians, except the cook, who was a Cafuzo, or half-breed between the Indian and negro. It is often said that this class of mestizos is the most evilly disposed of all the numerous crosses between the races inhabiting Brazil; but Luiz was a simple goodhearted fellow, always ready to do one a service. The pilot was an old Tapuyo of Pard, with regular oval face and well-shaped features. I was astonished at his endurance. He never quitted the helm night or day, except for two or three hours in the morning. The other Indians used to bring him his coffee and meals, and after breakfast one of them relieved him for a time, when he used to lie down on the quarterdeck and get his two hours nap. The Indians forward had things pretty much their own way. No system of watches was followed: when any one was so disposed, he lay down on the deck and went to sleep; but a feeling of good fellowship seemed always to exist amongst them. One of them was a fine specimen of the Indian race: a man very little short of six

feet high, with remarkable breadth of shoulder and full muscular chest. His comrades cailed him the commandant, on account of his having been one of the rebel leaders when the Indians and others took Santarem in 1835. They related of him that, when the legal authorities arrived with an armed flotilla to recapture the town, he was one of the last to quit, remaining in the little fortress which commands the place to make a show of loading the guns, although the ammunition had given out long ago. Such were our travelling companions. We lived almost the same as on board ship. Our meals were cooked in the galley; but, where practicable, and during our numerous stoppages, the men went in the montaria to fish near the shore, so that our breakfasts and dinners of salt pirarecu were sometimes varied with fresh food.

September 24th.—We passed Entre-as-Ilhas with the morning tide yesterday, and then made across to the eastern shore—the starting-point for all canoes which have to traverse the broad mouth of the Tocantins, going west. Early this morning we commenced the passage. ‘The navigation is attended with danger, on account of the extensive shoals in the middle of the river, which are covered only by a small depth of water at this season of the year. The wind was fresh, and the schooner rolled and pitched like a ship at sea. The distance was about fifteen miles. In the middle, the river-view was very imposing. Towards the north-east there was a long sweep of horizon clear of land, and on the south-west stretched a similar boundless expanse, but varied with islets clothed with fan-leaved palms, which, however, were visible only as isolated groups of columns, tufted at the top, rising here and there amidst the waste of waters. In the afternoon we rounded the westernmost point; the land, which is not terra firma, but simply a group of large islands forming a portion of the Tocantins delta, was then about three miles distant.

On the following day (25th) we sailed towards the west, along the upper portion of the Para estuary, which extends seventy miles beyond the mouth of the Tocantins. It varies in width from three to five miles, but broadens rapidly near its termination, where it is eight or nine miles wide. The northern shore is formed by the island of Marajo, and is slightly elevated and rocky in some parts. A series of islands conceals the southern shore from view most part of the way. The whole country, mainland and islands, is covered with forest. We had a good wind all day, and about 7 p.m. entered the narrow river of Breves, which commences abruptly the extensive labyrinth of channels that connect the Parad with the Amazons. The sudden termination of the Para, at a point where it expands to so great a breadth, is remarkable; the water, however, is very shallow over the greater portion of the expanse. I noticed, both on this and on the three subsequent occasions of passing this place, in ascending and descending the river, that the flow of the tide from the east along the estuary, as well as up the Breves, was very strong. ‘This seems sufficient to prove that no considerable volume of water passes by this medium from the Amazons to the Parad, and that the opinion of those geographers is an incorrect one, who believe the Para to be one of the mouths of the great river. There is, however, another channel connecting the two rivers, which 8

enters the Para six miles to the south of the Breves. The lower part of its course for eighteen miles is formed by the Uanapt, a large and independent river flowing from the south. The tidal flow is said by the natives to produce little or no current up this river—a fact which seems to afford a little support to the view just stated.

We passed the village of Breves at 3 p.m. on the 26th. It consists of about forty houses, most of which are occupied by Portuguese shopkeepers. A few Indian families reside here, who occupy themselves with the manufacture of ornamental pottery and painted cuyas, which they sell to traders or passing travellers. ‘The cuyas—drinking cups made from gourds—are sometimes very tastefully painted. The rich black ground-colour is produced by a dye made from the bark of a tree called Comateii, the gummy nature of which imparts a fine polish. The yellow tints are made with the Tabatinga clay; the red with the seeds of the Uruct, or anatto plant; and the blue with indigo, which is planted round the huts. The art is indigenous with the Amazonian Indians, but it is only the settled agricultural tribes belonging to the Tupi stock who practise it.

September 27th to 30th.—After passing Breves we continued our way slowly along a channel, or series of channels, of variable width. On the morning of the 27th we had a fair wind, the breadth of the stream varying from about 150 to 4oo yards. ‘The forest was not remarkable in appearance; the banks were muddy, and in low marshy places groups of caladiums fringed the edge of the water. About midday we passed, on the western side, the mouth of the Aturiazal, through which, on account of its swifter current, vessels pass in descending from the Amazons to Parad. Shortly afterwards we entered the narrow channel of the Jaburti, which lies twenty miles above the mouth of the Breves. Here commences the peculiar scenery of this remarkable region. We found ourselves in a narrow and nearly straight canal, not more than eighty to a hundred yards in width, and hemmed in by two walls of forest, which rose quite perpendicularly from the water to a height of seventy or eighty feet. ‘The water was of great and uniform depth, even close to the banks. We seemed to be ina deep gorge, and the strange impression the place produced was augmented by the dull echoes produced by the voices of our Indians and the splash of their paddles. The forest was excessively varied. Some of the trees, the dome-topped giants of the Leguminous and Bombaceous orders, reared their heads far above the average height of the green walls..The fan-leaved Miritf palm was scattered in some numbers amidst the rest, a few solitary specimens shooting up their smooth columns above the other trees. The graceful Assai palm grew in little groups, forming feathery pictures set in the rounder foliage of the mass. The Ubussn, lower in height, showed only its shuttlecock-shaped crowns of huge undivided fronds, which, being of a vivid pale-green, contrasted forcibly against the sombre hues of the surrounding foliage. The Ubussu grew here in great numbers; the equally remarkable Jupati palm (Rhaphia teedigera), which, like the Ubussu, is peculiar to this district, occurred more sparsely, throwing its long shaggy leaves, forty to fifty feet in length, in broad arches over the canal. An infinite diversity of smaller-

sized palms decorated the water’s edge, such as the Maraja-i (Bactris, many species), the Ubim (Geonoma), and a few stately Bacdbas (CEnocarpus bacaba). The shape of this last is exceedingly elegant, the size of the crown being in proper proportion to the straight smooth stem. The leaves, down even to the bases of the glossy petioles, are of a rich dark-green colour, and free from spines. ‘The forest wall”—I am extracting from my journal—“under which we are now moving, consists, besides palms, of a great variety of ordinary forest-trees. From the highest branches of these down to the water sweep ribbons of climbing plants, of the most diverse and ornamental foliage possible. Creeping convolvuli and others have made use of the slender lianas and hanging air-roots as ladders to climb by. Now and then appears a Mimosa or other tree having similar fine pinnate foliage, and thick masses of Inga border the water, from whose branches hang long bean-pods, of different shape and size, according to the species, some of them a yard in length. Flowers there are very few. I see, now and then, a gorgeous crimson blossom on long spikes ornamenting the sombre foliage towards the summits of the forest. I suppose it to belong to a climber of the Combretaceous order. There are also a few yellow and violet Trumpet-flowers (Bignoniz). The blossoms of the Ingas, although not conspicuous, are delicately beautiful. The forest all along offers so dense a front that one never obtains a glimpse into the interior of the wilderness.”

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