June, 1852.—I will now proceed to relate the incidents of my principal excursion up the Tapajos, which I began to prepare for, after residing about six months at Santarem.

I was obliged, this time, to travel in a vessel of my own; partly because trading canoes large enough to accommodate a naturalist very seldom pass between Santarem and the thinly-peopled settlements on the river, and partly because I wished to explore districts at my ease, far out of the ordinary track of traders. I soon found a suitable canoe; a two-masted cuberta, of about six tons’ burthen, strongly built of Itaiiba or stone-wood, a timber of which all the best vessels in the Amazons country are constructed, and said to be more durable than teak. This I hired of a merchant at the cheap rate of 500 reis, or about one shilling and twopence per day. I fitted up the cabin, which, as usual in canoes of this class, was a square structure with its floor above the water-line, as my sleeping and working apartments. My chests, filled with store-boxes and trays for specimens, were arranged on each side, and above them were shelves and pegs to hold my little stock of useful books, guns, and gamebags, boards and materials for skinning and preserving animals, botanical press and papers, drying cages for insects and birds, and so forth. A rush mat was spread on the floor, and my rolled-up hammock, to be used only when sleeping ashore, served for a pillow. The arched covering over the hold in the fore part of the vessel contained, besides a sleeping place for the crew, - my heavy chests, stock of salt provisions and groceries, and an assortment of goods wherewith to pay my way amongst the half-civilised or savage inhabitants of the interior. ‘The goods consisted of cashaga, powder and shot, a few pieces of coarse checked-cotton cloth and prints, fishhooks, axes, large knives, harpoons, arrow-heads, looking-glasses, beads, 215

and other small wares. José and myself were busy for many days arranging these matters. We had to salt the meat and grind a supply of coffee ourselves. Cooking utensils, crockery, water jars, a set of useful carpenter’s tools, and many other things had to be provided. We put all the groceries and other perishable articles in tin canisters and boxes, having found that this was the only way of preserving them from damp and insects in this climate. When all was done, our canoe looked like a little floating workshop.

I could get little information about the river, except vague accounts of the difficulty of the navigation, and the famito or hunger which reigned on its banks. As I have before mentioned, it is about a thousand miles in length, and flows from south to north; in magnitude it stands the sixth amongst the tributaries of the Amazons. It is navigable, however, by sailing vessels only for about 160 miles above Santarem. The hiring of men to navigate the vessel was our greatest trouble. José was to be my helmsman, and we thought three other hands would be the fewest with which we could venture. But all our endeavours to procure these were fruitless. Santarem is worse provided with Indian canoemen than any other town on theriver. I found on applying to the tradesman to whom I had brought letters of introduction, and to the Brazilian authorities, that almost any favour would be sooner granted than the loan of hands. A stranger, however, is obliged to depend on them; for it is impossible to find an Indian or half-caste whom some one or other of the head-men do not claim as owing him money or labour. I was afraid at one time I should have been forced to abandon my project on this account. At length, after many rebuffs and disappointments, José contrived to engage one man, a mulatto, named Pinto, a native of the mining country of Interior Brazii, who knew the river well; and with these two I resolved to start, hoping to meet with others at the first village on the road.

We left Santarem on the 8th of June. The waters were then at their highest point, and my canoe had been anchored close to the back door of our house. The morning was cool, and a brisk wind blew, with which we sped rapidly past the whitewashed houses and _ thatched Indian huts of the suburbs. The charming little bay of Mapirf was soon left behind; we then doubled Point Maria Josepha, a headland formed of high cliffs of Tabatinga clay, capped with forest. This forms the limit of the river view from Santarem, and here we had our last glimpse, at a distance of seven or eight miles, of the city, a bright line of tiny white buildings resting on the dark water. A stretch of wild, rocky, uninhabited coast was before us, and we were fairly within the Tapajos. Some of my readers may be curious to know how I managed money affairs during these excursions in the interior of the South American continent: it can be explained in a few words. In the first place, I had an agent in London to whom I consigned my collections. During the greater part of the time I drew on him for what sums I wanted, and an English firm at Pard (the only one in the country which traded regularly and directly with England) cashed the drafts. I found no difficulty in the interior of the country, for almost any of the larger

Portuguese or Brazilian traders, of whom there are one or two in every village of six hundred or seven hundred inhabitants, would honour my draft on the English house; they having each a correspondent at Para who deals with the foreign merchants. Sometimes a Portuguese trader would hint at discount, or wish me to take part of the amount in goods, but the Brazilians were generally more liberal. At one period, when I was obliged to wait for remittances from England,* I sometimes ran short of money; but I had only to say a word to one of these generous and considerate men, and the assistance was given without interest to the extent I required. The current money on the Amazons varied much during the eleven years of my stay. At first, nothing but copper coins and Brazilian treasury notes, the smallest representing 1000 reis (2s. 3d.), were seen; afterwards (1852—1856), with the increase of the India-rubber trade, a large amount of specie was imported,—American gold coins, Spanish and Mexican dollars, and English sovereigns. These were the commonest medium of exchange in Para and on the Lower Amazons, until India-rubber fell suddenly in price, in 1855, when the gold again quickly disappeared. About the year 1857, new silver coin, issued by the Brazilian Government, was introduced; elegant pieces of money of convenient values, answering nearly to our sixpenny, shilling, and two-shilling pieces. Neither gold, silver, nor paper, however, was of much use on a journey like the one I had now undertaken. All travellers on the branch rivers have to carry: cloth, cashaca, and small wares, to exchange for produce or food with the Indians; a small quantity of copper money, the only coin whose value is understood amongst the remote settlers, being nevertheless necessary to balance exchanges. When I had to send collections down to Para to be shipped for England, which happened three or four times a year, I used to arrange with any trader who was dispatching a vessel to the capital with produce; the owners very often charging nothing for the carriage. Sometimes I had to entrust chests full of choice specimens to Indians for a voyage of thirty or forty days: a word to the pilot recommending him to keep the boxes free from damp was quite sufficient. I never suffered any loss or damage.

Our course lay due west for about twenty miles. The wind increased as we neared Point Cururti, where the river bends from its northern course. A vast expanse of water here stretches to the west and south, and the waves, with a strong breeze, run very high. As we were doubling the point, the cable which held our montaria in tow astern, parted, and in endeavouring to recover the boat, without which we knew it would be difficult to get ashore on many parts of the coast, we were very near capsizing. We tried to tack down the river; a vain attempt with a strong breeze and no current. Our ropes snapped, the sails flew to rags, and the vessel, which we now found was deficient in ballast, heeled over frightfully. Contrary to José’s advice, I ran the cuberta into a little bay, thinking to cast anchor there and wait for the boat coming up with the wind; but the anchor dragged on the smooth

I take this opportunity of mentioning my obligations to Mr. George Brocklehurst, of the Para firm, by whom, during the latter years of my travels in the interior, my wants were attended to in the promptest and kindest manner

sandy bottom, and the vessel went broadside on to the rocky beach. With a little dexterous management, but not until after we had sustained some severe bumps, we managed to get out of this difficulty, clearing the rocky point at a close shave with our jib-sail. Soon after, we drifted into the smooth water of a sheltered bay, which leads to the charmingly situated village of Altar do Chao; and we were obliged to give up our attempt to recover the montaria.

The little settlement, Altar do Chad (Altar of the ground, or Earth altar), owes its singular name to the existence, at the entrance to the harbour, of one of those strange flat-topped hills which are so common in this part of the Amazons country, shaped like the high altar in Roman Catholic churches. It is an isolated one, and much lower in height than the similarly truncated hills and ridges near Almeyrim, being elevated probably not more than 300 feet above the level of the river. It is bare of trees, but covered in places with a species of fern. At the head of the bay is an inner harbour, which communicates by a channel with a series of lakes lying in the valleys between hills, and stretching far in the interior of the land. ‘The village is peopled almost entirely by semi-civilised Indians, to the number of sixty or seventy families; and the scattered houses are arranged in broad streets on a strip of green sward, at the foot of a high, gloriously-wooded ridge.

We stayed here nine days. As soon as we anchored I went ashore and persuaded, by the offer of a handsome reward, two young half-breeds to go in search of my missing boat. The head man of the place, Captain Thomas, a sleepy-looking mameluco, whom I found in his mud-walled cottage in loose shirt and drawers, with a large black rosary round his neck, promised me two Indians to complete my crew, if I would wait a few days until they had finished felling trees for a new plantation. Meantime my men had to make a new sail and repair the rigging, and I explored the rich woods in the vicinity.

Captain Thomas sent his son one day to show me the best paths. A few steps behind the houses we found ourselves in the virgin forest. The soil was sandy, and the broad path sloped gently up towards the high ridge which forms so beautiful a back-ground to the village. From the top of the hill a glimpse of the bay is obtained through the crowns of the trees. The road then descends, and so continues for many miles over hill and dale. There are no habitations, however, in this direction; the road having been made by people formerly employed in felling timber. The forest at Altar do Chad is noted for its riches in choice woods, and its large laurel and Itauba trees, which are used in building river schooners. The beautiful tortoise-shell wood, Noira pinima, minutely barred and spotted with red and black, which is made into walking-sticks by Brazilian carpenters, and exported as such in some numbers to Portugal, was formerly abundant here; it is the heart-wood of a tree I believe unknown to science, and is obtainable only in logs a few inches in diameter. The Moira coatidra (striped wood), a most beautiful material for cabinet work, being closely grained and richly streaked with chocolate-brown on a yellow ground, is another of these, and is also the heart-wood of a tree, but obtainable in logs a foot or more in diameter and ten feet in length. A rare wood called

Page 73 of 120