Across Unknown South America

October 6th and 7th I spent inside a hammock. I was in such a high fever and so absolutely exhausted that I believed I should never be able to pull through. Albuquerque and his wife were kindness itself to me, and looked after me most tenderly. While I had been away a trading boat had passed. That boat would be on its way down the river again in a few days. I thought I would take advantage of this to go down as far as the mouth of the Tapajoz on the Amazon in her.

On the evening of October 7th, Benedicto, who was a great glutton, prepared a huge bowl of the mamão fruit stewed and sweetened with quantities of sugar. I had obtained from Albuquerque some tins of shrimps, lobster and salmon, butter and jam—all condemned stuff from some ship—and I gave all my men a feast. Benedicto brought me some of the sweet he had prepared, and it looked so tempting that, ill as I was, I ate a quantity of it. After dinner I persuaded my men to go back to the forest to recover the baggage they had abandoned there. Tempted by a present of money I offered them if they would bring it back safely, they all agreed to go.

On October 8th, however, when the men were to start, the man X had a severe colic. He rolled himself on the ground in great pain, and refused to go.

The strong fever had finished me to such an extent that I did not think I should last many hours longer. Albuquerque and his wife stood by my hammock watching me, Albuquerque shaking his head compassionately, asking me if I wanted to write a last word to my family, which he would send down by the trading boat when she arrived. I well remember hearing his voice faintly, as I was in a half-dazed condition. I had not the strength to answer. As he walked out of the room he said to his wife: "Poor fellow! he will not be alive in another hour!"

Albuquerque was a most thoughtful Brazilian, intelligent and well-educated, quite superior for the position he occupied there.

I was still alive on October 9th, much to the surprise of everybody, and feeling much better. There was a great slaughter of chickens, Albuquerque saying that I needed chicken broth badly; in fact, that day I drank cup after cup, and it seemed to give me a little strength. Although those chickens had a local value of about £1 sterling each, Albuquerque would not hear of my paying for them. I knew what inconvenience it would be for him to slaughter them in that fashion, as he could not replace them perhaps for several months.

Good news came that day, when Albuquerque's wife entered the room saying that some trading boats were coming up the river—she could see them a long way off, just getting over the Capueras Falls. I decided to go up in one of those boats as far as the Fiscal Agency at S. Manoel, where I could obtain fresh clothes and provisions. Remaining still inside a house I felt was killing me.

The boats did not arrive that evening. The next day, October 10th, rain came down in sheets, so that we could not see more than a few metres in front of us, and the wind was howling with fury.

On October 11th, when the boats approached, Albuquerque took me up in a small canoe to them on the other side of the wide stream. It was the trading fleet of Don Eulogio Mori, a Peruvian trader, who at once offered all possible assistance and undertook to convey me up stream with pleasure.

Mr. Mori, a most enterprising man, who was in charge of the expedition, was a frank, open and jolly gentleman, most charmingly thoughtful and civil. He and his brother had the second largest rubber-trading business on the upper Tapajoz River.

He was amazed when I got on board and told him who I was, as the news had already spread down the river that I had been murdered by my own men in the forest. In fact, during my absence, when Alcides had travelled up to the Fiscal Agency to inform them of what was happening, he had been detained there for some days and accused with his companions of having murdered me.

As we went up the stream once more we passed Mount S. Benedicto, with its foliated rock in grey and red strata. Volleys were fired in honour of the saint; more candles were deposited on the platform of rock.

When we halted for lunch, one of the crew died of yellow fever. After lunch a grave was dug and the corpse duly deposited in it.

We had not gone far when the trading boats of Colonel Brazil, under the care of Mr. João Pinto, came in sight on their way down the river. Therefore I abandoned the idea of going up to S. Manoel, as, had I not taken the opportunity of going down with Mr. Pinto, I might have had to wait up the river some two or three months before I had another opportunity.

Again I met with the greatest kindness on the part of Mr. Pinto when I transhipped from the Peruvian boats.

In a few hours, travelling rapidly down stream, I was once more at Albuquerque's hut, where Mr. Pinto most kindly offered to halt one day in order that I might wait for the men who had gone in search of my baggage in the forest.

Where the Madeira-Mamore Railway begins.

Madeira-Mamore Railway, showing Cut through Tropical Forest.

Next day, October 16th, as I was in great suspense lest the men should not arrive in time—Mr. Pinto being pressed to get quickly down the river with some thousands of kilos of rubber he had purchased—my men eventually arrived with part of the baggage. They had abandoned the rest in the forest, including my valuable botanical collection, which had taken me so many months of careful labour. Alcides said that the termites had played havoc with all my things. The wooden boxes had been almost entirely destroyed, as well as most of the contents. I was glad, nevertheless, to get back what I did, the man Benedicto on that occasion behaving splendidly—even going back to the spot where the tragic scene had taken place with the Indian Miguel on our outward journey and recovering some of my instruments which I had abandoned there.

In the afternoon of October 16th I bade goodbye to Albuquerque, and gave him a present of £20 sterling, as he would not accept payment for the hospitality he had offered me.

With a powerful crew of men we sped down the river quickly. In a couple of hours we had already arrived at the rapids of the Capueras. After passing the island of Pombas before entering the rapids, we encountered the first rapid of Sirgar Torta; then the second rapid of Baunilla—named after the vanilla plant. The third rapid of the Capueras group was called Chafaris; then the fourth was the Campinho.

We went along the banks of the beautiful island of Antas, after which we halted at the house of José Maracati, a Mundurucu chieftain, with thirty Indians under him. A delegate of the Para Province in charge of the Indians—a man of strong Malay characteristics and evidently of Indian parentage—received us, and gave me much information about the local rubber industry. He told me that the best rubber found in that region was the kind locally called seringa preta, a black rubber which was coagulated with the smoke of the coco de palmeira. He calculated that 150 rubber trees gave about 14 kilos of rubber a day. The seringa preta exuded latex all the year round, even during the rainy season.

There was in that region also another kind of rubber tree—the itauba—but it was of inferior quality, as the latex was too liquid, like reddish milk, quite weak, and with little elasticity.

A few trees of the castanha do Para were also found in that region, producing the well-known nut which has rendered Brazil famous in England.

Solveira trees were also plentiful all over that district, and gave latex which was good to drink; while another tree, called the amapá, exuded latex somewhat thinner than that of the solveira, which was supposed to be beneficial in cases of consumption or tuberculosis.

Very interesting were the different liane in the forest there, particularly the cepa de agua, which when cut gave most delicious fresh water to drink. The titica was a smaller liana, which was most troublesome when you went through the forest, as it generally caught you and twisted round your feet as it lay for long distances along the ground.

Another wild fruit which was abundant there was the pajurá, dark in colour, soft-skinned, most palatable and quite nourishing, but which gave an insatiable thirst after you had eaten it.

We resumed our journey among a lot of islands, traversing the Cabeceira de Piquarana. The main rapid was formidable enough, although nothing in comparison with the rapids we had gone over on the Arinos-Juruena river. There was a barrier of rock extending from W.S.W. to E.N.E. across the river, which was there 1,500 metres broad and of great beauty, with hillocks on either side and some small islets in mid-stream.

Soon afterwards we came to another barrier of rock, extending from north to south. It was called the Bigua. There was an island of the same name, the name being taken from an aquatic bird which is plentiful there.

The traders talked a great deal of the dangers of those rapids, and they were certainly dangerous because of the innumerable submerged rocks; but after the fierceness of those we had encountered before they seemed child's play to us.

The river there followed a direction of b.m. 60°.

We spent the night of October 16th-17th at the seringueiro's farm of Boa Vista, most beautifully situated where the river described a big curve. In its crudeness the hospitality of those exiles was quite charming. They hardly ever spoke; they just laid things before you—all they possessed—and were overcome with surprise when you thanked them for it or when you offered payment.

There was a project of constructing a cart-road for some 20 kil. along the bank, in order to avoid the rapids which occurred there in the river. Although those rapids were not impressive to look at, they were strewn with submerged rocks just under the surface, which were very dangerous for the large trading boats. If that road were constructed a great deal of time would be saved, especially in ascending the river, when sometimes the trading boats took as long as a week or ten days to get over that particular rapid.

The first rapid we saw after we left Boa Vista was the Vira Sebo rapid, slightly worse than the following ones. I was getting a little better, living on the roof of the trading boat, thoughtfully looked after by Mr. João Pinto and the other employés of Col. Brazil. I was able to drink quantities of condensed milk, and my strength seemed to be slowly coming back.

Bolivian Rubber at Abuna Station on the Madeira-Mamore Railway.

The Inauguration Train on the Madeira-Mamore Railway.

The river had many islets as we proceeded on our journey, with wooded hillocks some 100 to 150 ft. high in long successive undulations along the river banks. The coast-line was generally of rocky volcanic formation, with accumulations of boulders in many places right across the stream.

After passing the rapids we were travelling through a region of extensive and beautiful sand-beaches, with hardly any rock showing through anywhere. The country on each side was almost altogether flat, merely an occasional hill being visible here and there.

On October 19th we came in for a howling storm of wind and rain, waves being produced in the river as high as those that occur in the sea. We tossed about considerably and shipped a lot of water. More immense sand-beaches were passed, and then we came to a region of domed rocks showing along the river bank. At all the baracãos, or trading sheds where the seringueiros bought their supplies, the same rubbish was for sale: condemned, quite uneatable ship biscuits sold at 5s. a kilo; Epsom salts at the rate of £2 sterling a kilo; putrid tinned meat at the rate of 10s. a tin; 1-lb. tins of the commonest French salt butter fetched the price of 10s. each. The conversation at all those halting-places where the trading boats stopped was dull beyond words, the local scandal—there was plenty of it always—having little interest for me.

At one place we were met by a charming girl dressed up in all her finery, singing harmonious songs to the accompaniment of her guitar. So great was her desire to be heard that she kept on the music incessantly during the whole time we stopped—some three hours—although nobody paid the slightest attention to it after the first song or two.

Farther down the river, there 800 m. wide, hills and undulations were to be seen on each side. At sunset that day we arrived at S. Isabel or Castanho, where I had the pleasure of meeting the greatest man upon that river—Col. R. E. Brazil, a man of immense strength of will and enterprise. He went under the name, which he well deserved, of the "King of the Tapajoz"; for it was he who indeed held the key of that river, nearly the entire commerce on that great waterway being, directly or indirectly, in his hands.

October 20th was spent at S. Isabel, where a great fleet of boats was waiting to be loaded with thousands upon thousands of kilos of magnificent rubber.

Both Col. Brazil and his employés treated me with great deference, and made preparations to get a boat ready at once for me to continue my journey down the stream. In fact, Col. Brazil, who would not hear of my paying for being conveyed down stream, insisted upon my being his guest, and declared that he himself would take me to a point where I might be able to get a steamer.

When all the boats were ready, at 4 p.m. on October 20th, we proceeded on our journey down the Tapajoz by a small channel on the right side of the river, in order to visit some of the trading sheds belonging to Col. Brazil, especially those at the mouth of the Crepore River, which was 100 m. wide where it entered the Tapajoz on the right side. The scenery was beautiful, the hills getting higher as we proceeded north, some of the islands we passed also being of great height and forming picturesque scenes, especially against the gorgeous tints of the sky at sunset.

I was interested in observing the wonderful regularity of the sky-line along the forest. It looked as if the trees had been trimmed artificially in a perfectly straight line. The fleet which Col. Brazil was taking down the river consisted of eight large boats. I was much impressed by the force of mind of Col. Brazil, together with his great charm and thoughtfulness when not at work. His men were in mortal fear of him, and trembled all over when he spoke to them.

No serious obstacle to navigation was encountered as we proceeded on our journey, although rocks were plentiful, great red domes and boulders galore showing through the water and along the coast-line. Whitish vertical cliffs were noticeable along the higher hills. The most impressive things I saw in that part of the river were the extensive beaches of beautiful reddish sand extending for hundreds and hundreds of metres at a time. Those beaches were often 10 to 20 ft. high.

The river was most interesting, especially near the beach of Curassá, with Crato in the distance; then the great meadow of "Mission Nova" extending in a north-westerly direction on the left bank, along the tributary of the same name. In the same direction extended also the rocky barrier at the beginning of the Mangabel rapid. The rapid was formed by a rocky barrier extending from north-west to south-east. We had hilly and undulating country all the way along, and the river wound about a great deal.

Col. Brazil was steering the first boat of the fleet carefully as we went through the tortuous channel, the entire fleet following us in good order. Picturesque islands of truly tropical appearance were to be seen, covered with tall burity palms, 30 to 40 ft. high, with narrow channels between.

The heavy clouds which had collected to the north suggested an approaching storm, but, as luck would have it, the sky cleared at sunset. As we wound our way among the many rocks reflected in the now still waters of that vast river, the scene was really beautiful.

The channel through which Col. Brazil navigated his boat was only 10 m. wide, with dangerous submerged rocks. Mangabel, taken as a whole, was an immense basin, 1,000 to 1,500 m. broad from west to east, interspersed with elongated, rounded and flattened rocks. It was indeed a most picturesque sight, especially when all the trading boats were winding their way at sunset descending the various rapids.

After going through a great channel, we went along a large fissure from south-east to north-west, still in the Mangabel rapid. The rock of that region was highly ferruginous. That fissure was of great depth, and absolutely free from rocks in the channel itself.

When we emerged from the fissure we were confronted to the east on the right bank by two enormous hemispherical domes 100 ft. high, grassy but absolutely without a tree.

The rocky formation of the hills was apparent a little farther down stream, when going along the great eastern channel of the river. On the left bank we had hills with campos on their summit. All the hills I noticed in that region had rounded backs.

I greatly admired the bearing of Col. Brazil as we dashed down at a terrific speed through the most intricate channel in the rapid, strewn with sharp rocks. Had we touched one of those rocks it would have meant the destruction of the boat, the loss of all the valuable cargo and most of the crew, as the majority of them could not swim.

There were three passages there, called respectively the Casson, near the left bank; the Dos Ananas, in the centre; and the channel da Terra Preta, which we followed, on the right. At Lua Nova, the end of the Mangabel rapid, the river turned in a sweeping curve to the north, the rocks getting fewer and fewer until eventually the river became quite clear of them, with only high hills along both banks. Lua Nova was a little settlement of five houses and a shed, some of them whitewashed, with doors and windows painted green. A small plantation of Indian corn, sugar-cane, and mandioca had been made, the soil being extremely fertile at that spot. We enjoyed a magnificent view to the west and north-north-west, the river there forming an elbow.

Wreck of the "Mamoria" in the Calderão of the Solimões River.

Indians of the Putumayo District.

(Dr. Rey de Castro, Peruvian Consul at Manaos, in the centre of photograph.)

Close by, on leaving that place, we found on our right Lage's Point, where the rocky formation suddenly ended, and with it the dangers of the Mangabel rapids. Here there was a basin 1,500 m. wide, with extensive sand-beaches of great beauty. After passing the last row of rocks, extending from west to east, the entire river bottom was of clean yellow sand, so that the water appeared as limpid as crystal, while a few moments before it looked of a dirty yellow—not because it was really dirty, but because of the reflection from the rocky river bottom.

From Praia Formosa, which we then saw on our left side, the river was once more strewn with rocks, but not in such quantities as at Mangabel. High hills could be seen all along, which seemed as if they had been formed by alluvial deposits left there when the drainage from the high Matto Grosso plateau proceeded down toward the north in a disorderly fashion, until it found its way into the great fissures in the earth's crust which now form the beds of those great arteries, the Xingu, the Tapajoz, and the Madeira rivers.

I noticed that all the hills and undulations ran from south to north or from north-west to south-east, the southern slope being generally more elongated. After passing on our left the trading sheds of Sobradinho and S. Vicente, with their corrugated iron roofs—looking to us the most civilized things we had ever seen—we approached the Montanha, where another rapid had to be negotiated.

During the night I was sleeping inside the cabin of the boat, which Col. Brazil had placed at my disposal, and where I had all the baggage which I had saved from the forest. In the middle of the night all of a sudden the boat sank in 5 or 6 ft. of water. It was all I could do to scramble out of the cabin. The boat had sprung a great leak as big as a man's hand, which had been stopped up, and which had suddenly opened—hence the misfortune.

This sudden immersion in cold water gave me another bad attack of fever, as I had to sit the entire night in wet pyjamas while the crews of all the other boats were summoned in order to raise the boat once more, a work which lasted several hours.

Next morning when we departed Col. Brazil lent me some of his clothes, while all my things were spread on the roofs of the various boats to dry in the sun, I never shall forget Col. Brazil's amusement and that of his men when I unpacked some of the boxes, which had once been watertight, and pulled out a dress-suit, frock-coat, and other such stylish garments, now all wet and muddy, and some twenty pairs of shoes, all in a terrible condition, mildewed and soaked with the moisture they had absorbed in the forest and during the last immersion.

Near the tributary Montanha, on the left side of the main stream, were two small rapids. A rich rubber-producing land was situated a day and a half's journey along that tributary. The best way to reach it was from a place called El Frances, one of the most charming spots I saw on the lower Tapajoz River. The central hill at Montanha was 300 ft. high, the hills around it from 200 to 300 ft. high.

Farther down we came to the Rio Jamanchin, a tributary on the right side of the Tapajoz, which entered the river where great sand-shallows occupied nearly half the width of the stream.

Col. Brazil was the happy possessor of immense concessions on that tributary stream—in fact as far as the Tocantins River, a tributary on the left side of the Jamanchin. He had already made a mule trail across that region in order to get over the difficulty of the troublesome rapids which are to be found there, such as those of Portão, Cahy, and Apuhy. The mineral wealth was also considerable, according to the accounts I heard; while undoubtedly the production of rubber could not be better.

This was the spot at which the river Tapajoz came nearest to its eastern neighbour the river Xingu. The seringueiros on the latter river constantly cross over, following the Jamanchin in order to go down to the Amazon by the Tapajoz. Rubber collectors have found their way high up on the Xingu River—much farther up than on the river Tapajoz.

On October 25th we went down first the Limão rapid, and then the Burbure rapid. The river was beautiful all along, with low hills on both sides. We eventually arrived at Pimental, a fiendishly hot, steamy, unhealthy place, where across a streamlet was a station for the transhipment of rubber. The place was on low ground, which became inundated at high water. Another station was built some 200 m. off on high ground, which was used as a winter station. The second station was at the beginning of an excellent mule track which Col. Brazil had cut as far as a place lower down the river called Bella Vista, a distance of some 20 kil. He had imported at much expense a number of mules for the service. All the rubber was conveyed from that spot on mule-back, as between Pimental and Bella Vista was a dangerous rapid, on which many boats had been lost.

In the company of Col. Brazil I rode over that distance, in intense pain owing to the weak state in which I was. When we came to the river again, over great deposits of sand we saw a number of crocodiles basking in the sun.

Bella Vista consisted of four neat double-storied grey houses, two large white buildings, and some temporary constructions of mud with palm-leaf roofs, all of them situated on a high bank. The place was at the entrance of a wide channel, dry and sandy. When this was filled by the stream at high water a long island was formed.

Bella Vista was a great point for us, for there we should meet steam navigation again, Col. Brazil having purchased a handsome steamer which performed the service between that place and Belem (Para).

A Street in Iquitos.

The Launch "Rimac" on the Ucayalli River.

I broke down altogether while there, and was nursed with the tenderest care by the family of Mr. Lage, who was in charge of that trading station. It is difficult to imagine more kind-hearted, generous people than these exiles in those deadly regions. All the employés at the station were in a pitiable condition, suffering from malarial fever.

When the steamer Commandante Macedo arrived—she only came once a month in order to bring down the rubber—I went in her to the first town we had seen since leaving Diamantino, a place called Itaituba. It seemed to us as if we had dropped into London or Paris again, although the place merely consisted of a few red-roofed houses, the walls of which were gaily coloured, bright yellow, green, or white. Palm trees of great size showed here and there beyond the row of buildings as we approached the place on its high site.

Prominent along the river front were magnificently vigorous mango trees, with luxuriant foliage. A brick and stone church, unfinished, was visible, with a great pile of bricks in front waiting in vain for money and labour to complete it. The grand square, with its pretty Intendencia coloured bright blue, formed the end, on the west, of that most important "town" on the Tapajoz. In the centre of the square was a well-executed bust of Correa.

The most prominent feature of the place, however, was the elevated landing-stage, some 30 ft. above the level of the river at low water, erected there for loading and unloading when the river rose. The town was divided by three longitudinal avenues, the central one also with rows of magnificent mango trees, which indeed seemed to flourish at that place. I was particularly struck by the wonderful tidiness and cleanliness, the good drainage of the streets, and the upkeep of the different houses, of which the people seemed proud. Everybody was well off, owing to the rubber industry, which had brought much wealth to the place. Col. Brazil and his family have dedicated much time and energy to embellishing the town, and no doubt some day, when Itaituba is connected with proper telegraphic and postal services, it will become an important city, being the key, as it were, of the Tapajoz River.

On November 5th I bade good-bye to my good friend Col. Brazil, whose guest I had been since leaving the forest, and for whose thoughtful hospitality I feel deeply grateful. I presented him with my best rifle, a very handsome weapon, which had accompanied me on several previous journeys, and which was the only valuable thing remaining in my possession.

It was a new sensation for me to be steaming down comfortably on a beautifully-kept steamer, as spick-and-span as a private yacht. Her captain and co-proprietor with Col. Brazil was Captain Macedo, a man who had spent much time in Europe, and was one of the most polished gentlemen I met in Brazil.

Now that my work was practically over, it was a great relief to me to be basking in a cane chair upon the deck, looking at the wonderful scenery opening up before me as we went on. We passed a lovely sand-beach, Capitary, then the immense bay of Boin, and farther on the great rocks of Surucuá. Then came in sight the headland called Punta de Cururu, with the Serra of the same name upon it. Once or twice the ship stopped at different sheds in order to take up merchandise, but we only halted long enough to get the cargo on board, and once more we proceeded gaily down stream. It was wonderful how one appreciated civilized ways of locomotion after travelling for months and months, as we had done, in the manner of prehistoric man.

In the evening, while we were sitting at dinner, there was a big bump. We had run aground somewhat heavily on a sand-dune. The captain rather frightened me as he said that on a previous occasion they had stuck on a sand-bank for several days before they could get off. As luck would have it that night, partly by the aid of a steel cable several hundred metres long, which had been fastened to a number of big trees on the shore, partly by her own power, we were able to back out and get her free. Only six hours were wasted. The tide, which reaches a long way up the Tapajoz River when the latter is low, helped us a great deal. At high tide the level of the water is raised more than one foot. It seemed amazing that the tide of the ocean could extend its influence by forcing the water back so far up the Amazon and its tributaries.

Although the steamer on which I was did not draw much water, being built specially for river navigation, careful soundings had to be taken continually. I well recollect the cries of the man at the lead. When the man cried out "Una braça!" (one fathom), there was great excitement on board, and we had to slow down to half speed or dead slow. In the distance on the left bank in the haze could be distinguished high hills, at the foot of which white ribbon-like streaks were visible along the water.

The Barros do Tapayuna, a sand and mud bar, extremely shallow, extended from the elongated island of the same name right across the stream, there about 5 kil. wide. That spot was also called the garganta, or throat of the Tapajoz, because at low water it was impossible to get through, and it was necessary to unload the steamer, the navigation being extremely difficult.

"Dos braças!" (two fathoms) cried the lead man. "One and a half fathom!" he cried next, as we went over the shallowest part of that sand-bar.

Although shallow, that part of the river was not dangerous, because the bottom was of soft mud; not so, however, farther on, where the shallow channel was strewn with plentiful rocks. Captain Macedo had sensibly placed buoys and marks all over the most dangerous places, so as to minimize the dangers of navigation.

The river was magnificent farther down, where we passed a great quadrangular rock of deep Indian red, looking exactly like an immense square tower. Then vertical rocks were to be seen all along the right bank; while on the left bank, when we crossed over to the other side of the river, were immense beaches of beautiful sand. Above them were great stretches of the most wonderful grass, upon which thousands of cattle could graze—but not one animal was to be seen.

A Trail in the Andes.

It was rather interesting to note that the formation of the right bank was exactly the same as that of the Paredão Grande we had seen in Matto Grosso. Vertical sides in great rectangles were noticeable, intersected by passages—regular cañons—where small huts could be seen at the foot of the picturesque rocks, especially at places where small streamlets entered the Tapajoz. I was told that little lakes had formed beyond those frontal rocky masses, the entrances to which were blocked at low water by sand-bars. Beyond that row of vertical red rocks was a more or less confused mass of hills, some dome-like, others of a more elongated form, but still with a well-rounded sky-line. The water of the stream had now changed colour altogether, and had become of a deep green. Islets could be seen far, far away to the left side of the river, mere white dots and lines along the water-line, most of them having white sand-beaches around them; while on the right bank the great red walls in sections continued for many miles. As we neared the mouth of the Tapajoz, the river had the immense width of 14 kil. On the right, after going through the Passagem dos Surucué, we passed the mountain of Jaguarary, which stood prominent along a flat elevation on the right bank.

We halted in the afternoon at a picturesque little place called Prainha—prettier than any I had seen so far, because of its frontage battlement, with its numerous staircases to allow the people of the various houses to go down to the water. A tiny church stood farther back on a prominence.

Late at night we arrived at Santarem, at the junction of the Tapajoz River with the Amazon. At that spot the man X and poor Benedicto insisted on leaving me, so they received their full pay, and Benedicto a very handsome present of money; after which they disembarked. As the sum I paid Benedicto was a considerable one, so that he might be well off for the rest of his days, I warned him not to waste it in buying all kinds of absurd things.

We halted at Santarem for several hours. What was not my astonishment, just before we departed, to find that Benedicto had gone into a store and had spent over £25 sterling in buying innumerable tins of jam—in fact, he had bought up the entire supply which was in the store! When I asked him what he did that for, he said he was very fond of jam. With his friends and a number of people he had quickly collected round him, they opened tin after tin, ravenously devouring the contents, so that within a short time he would have none left.

Brazilians of all classes are hopelessly improvident.

CHAPTER XXIII

A colony of Spaniards had been imported to work, but they were dissatisfied and had left. Tobacco, made up into fusiform sticks 6 ft. long and tied into bundles, was exported from that place in considerable quantities; the inhabitants were also engaged in breeding cattle, growing Indian corn, and drying fish—the pirarucú (Vastres gigas), a salmonoid vulgarly called the cod-fish of the Amazon. A big trade was done in that dried fish all over that region.

In the full moon of a glorious night we could discern to the north a mountain region with elevations of over 3,000 ft. Between those mountains—the Serra de Almerin—and ourselves, lay a long flat island, the vegetation on which was, for that particular region, comparatively sparse. That island of mud had formed during the last fifteen or twenty years, and was at the time of my visit several kilometres in length. It was called the Pesqueiro. Islands have a way of forming in a very short time in the Amazon, while others change their shape or disappear altogether.

On November 7th we were facing the principal outlet of the Amazon to the north-east. That main estuary is, however, not as navigable as the one south of it, through which most of the big ships pass. An archipelago had formed at that spot. The fortress of Matapa, very ancient, stood on the largest outlet.

We went through the channel called the Itoquara. Another, the Tajapurozinho, was to the south, forming a boundary on that side of the large island, which we skirted to the north in the Itoquara channel. The beautiful island of Uruttahi was now in sight, to the north of the largest outlet. Like all other islands in that neighbourhood, it was flat and of alluvial formation.

In order to avoid the open waters, where the small ship upon which I was tossed about considerably, we kept to the smaller channels between the islands, going first through the channel of Limão and after that through the Tajapuru. It was practically the same course as the Itoquara, which was called by different names in different parts. It was narrow and tortuous, and required great skill in the navigation of it; but it was extraordinarily deep—so deep that all the big ocean steamers entering the Amazon followed this channel in preference to the main outlet of the river, which is not navigable owing to many sandbanks.

We were there in a regular maze of islands, composed mostly of mud and of recent formation, not more than one or two feet above the water. For Brazil, they were fairly thickly inhabited, miserable huts being visible every few hundred metres or so.

On our right as we went through we had a luxuriant growth of mirichi palms, some of great height and close together—a regular forest of them. At the first glance as you looked at those islands, it seemed as if all along the coast-line a low palisade had been erected. It was indeed a natural palisade of aninga, an aquatic plant growing in profusion on the edge of mud-banks. The aninga is said to contain a powerful poison, the touch of which produces violent itching.

All the houses and huts on those islands necessarily had to be built on high piles, as the country was constantly inundated, the tide rising and falling some three feet in that particular channel.

Campas Indian Children.

As we neared the mouth of the river, with Para as our objective, we first saw the lighthouse of Buyussu in the immense bay which takes its name from the little town of Coralhina. Both this town and that of Boa Vista were on the left side of us, on the great island of Marajo. On the right the island of Oya was visible, and the island of Araras. Between the light of Buyussu and the island of Oya opened the great bay of Melgasso.

Considering the amount of navigation that went through, it was amazing to see how badly lighted that river was—the two lights, such as the one at Buyussu, and the one at Mandy, at the entrance of the bay of Marajo, being no bigger than and not so brilliant as the ordinary street oil-lamp in an English or French village. I understand that all ships navigating the Amazon have to pay a large tax on each journey for the maintenance of the lighthouses on that immense waterway. It is quite criminal that no proper lights are constructed in order to protect the safety of the passengers and the valuable cargoes which go by that important water route.

More picturesque than most of the scenery I had so far witnessed on the Amazon was the narrow Foro da Jararaca. From the lamp-post—it cannot in all honesty be called a lighthouse—of Mandy, we made for the other lamp-post of Capin; and from this for the third lamp-post of Arrozal, navigation being most difficult in that part. From there we steered direct for the Farol de Cutijuba, a light somewhat more respectable than the others at the entrance of the Barra of Pará.

After going through the bay of Coralhina we did not follow the great channel that was before us, but skirted the island of Concepção to the left, passing between it and Paketta Island. After that island we found ourselves in the bay of Jappelin, so named after a bird of that region, which builds an elongated nest.

Having passed the Cutijuba Island, and then the Taxipa Island on our left, in the early morning we entered between the islands of Arabiranga and Jararakinha. The larger vessels generally follow a course outside on the east of this island before entering the large bay of Marajo.

We could plainly see that we were approaching a large city, for quantities of little sailing boats were now visible on the water. Signs of civilization were beginning to appear on the island of Arabiranga. A brick and tile kiln, which supplied Belem (Pará) with most of its building materials, had been established there. Alongside the island could be seen a lot of steamers belonging to the Amazon River Company. Beyond was the bay of Guajara, with the city and many ocean steamers looming in the distance.

On November 18th we steamed into the bay, and there stood the city of Belem (Pará) before us, while the noise of the town began to get louder and louder as we approached the dock. That sound was welcome to me in a way, and at the same time worrying, after the dead silence I had been accustomed to for the last many months.

A swarm of robber-porters invaded the steamer the moment we came alongside the pier. The bustle, the loud shouting, the pushing, seemed most irritating. Ill as I was, for a few moments I almost contemplated the idea of turning back toward the virgin forest. The heat was oppressive, the bells of the tramways jangled all the time, the rattle of the mediæval carriages on the cobble-stones of the pavement was distressing.

Things were not pleasanter when I put up in the best hotel, where the best room I could get was not unlike a coal-cellar. We will not speak of the food.

Those aspiring efforts at semi-civilization were to my mind ten times worse than no civilization at all. Had it not been for the extreme kindness of my friend Commandante Macedo, of Mr. Ross, the manager of the London and Brazilian Bank, and of the British Consul, I would have left the place that same day.

At Belem I dismissed Alcides, Antonio, and white Filippe, paying their full passage by sea and railway and full wages up to the day of their arrival at their respective homes. They had certainly many faults, and had not behaved well to me; but I am given to weigh matters justly, and there was no doubt that those men had endured terrific hardships and, willingly or unwillingly, had carried through quite a herculean task. I therefore not only paid them the high wages upon which I had agreed, but I gave each a handsome present of money.

The three men duly signed receipts and unsolicited certificates, in which they declared that during the entire journey they had been treated by me in a generous manner and with every possible thoughtfulness and consideration.

As they had not been able to spend a single penny since we had left Diamantino they had accumulated a considerable sum of cash. I warned them, as I had done with Benedicto, to be careful and not waste their money. They went out for a walk. Some hours later they returned, dressed up in wonderful costumes with fancy silk ties, patent leather shoes, gold chains and watches, and gaudy scarf-pins. In a few hours they had wasted away nearly the entire sum I had paid out to them. Everything was extremely expensive in Pará—certainly three or four times the price which things would fetch in London or New York.

Two days later white Filippe and Antonio embarked for Rio de Janeiro, with hardly a word of farewell to me. Alcides refused to travel on the same steamer with his companions, and left by a later one.

The city of Pará is much too well known for me to enter into a long description of it. Since its discovery in the year 1500, when Vincente Yanes Pinzon cast anchor in the Marañon or Amazon, Belem has become a beautiful city. As everybody knows, it is the capital of the Pará province, which has an area of 1,149,712 sq. kil. Geographically, Belem could not be situated in a better position, and is bound some day to become the most flourishing city of the Brazilian Republic. It is undoubtedly the key to the great Amazon River, although it is not actually at the mouth of the Amazon, but 138 kil. from the ocean. Through it is bound to pass the trade not only of that riverine portion of Brazil, but also of Peru and Bolivia.

Campas Old Woman and her Son.

Belem (Pará) is mostly known to Europeans as the nest of yellow fever. During the last few years it has been freed absolutely from that scourge, the cases of yellow fever being now few and far between, owing to the wonderful progress made by hygiene and the praiseworthy efforts made by the Province to keep the city in a healthy condition.

The population of Pará is 192,230 inhabitants. Many spacious and handsome edifices, such as the Government buildings and the professional Institutes, do great credit to the city; while the Peace Theatre is one of the finest in Brazil. Many private mansions are of some architectural beauty, and some of the new avenues and the municipal gardens are handsome. The slaughter-house, the iron market, etc., are quite up to date, and the city even boasts of a crematorium.

My object in coming to Belem (Pará) was merely to see my men safely on board on their return to the Minas Geraes and Goyaz Provinces; also to buy some new cameras and instruments, so that I could start on the second part of my expedition, following the entire course of the Amazon almost up to its source, then cross over the Andes and reach the Pacific Ocean.

My English friends in Pará tried to dissuade me from attempting the journey, as I was in a pitiful condition. What was worse, civilization, instead of making me feel better, was smashing me up altogether. Every day I was getting weaker and weaker, and more exhausted. I had hardly strength to walk about, less still to go up or down stairs. Beri-beri commenced to develop in my right foot, and added to my other trials.

The English consul told me it was absolute folly to try and proceed on such a long journey in such an exhausted state.

Having bought fresh clothes and cameras for my new expedition, I left Pará on November 12th at noon on the excellent ship Anthony of the Booth line, on my way up the Amazon to Manaos.

I will not attempt here to give a description of that amazing river the Amazon—amazing because it is very big and not because it is beautiful, for indeed I do not believe that in all my travels I have ever seen a river quite so ugly and uninteresting as the Amazon.

First of all, it is so big that you seldom see both sides of the river at a time; its waters are muddy and filthy; its climate is damp, oppressive and unhealthy; its vegetation, when you are near enough the banks to see it, is entangled, half-rotted, and smelly. All along one's nostrils are offended by the fetid odour of mud and decayed vegetable matter.

People in Europe seem imbued with the idea that, as you go along the Amazon, you must be attracted by the great number of birds of beautiful plumage, insects and butterflies of all sizes and amazing colours. Occasionally, especially in the early morning and at sunset, one does notice perhaps a flock of green paroquets with yellow foreheads, notable for their peculiar, clumsy, rapid wing-flapping flight and their harsh shrieks when settling on the trees. Occasionally, too, one may see a family of larger parrots dashing across the sky; but, indeed, birds in the lower Amazon are not plentiful by any means, nor, indeed, is their plumage particularly attractive, most birds, except the parrots, being small and very soberly tinted.

As for the melodious songs of birds which civilized people always imagine in the equatorial forest—the song that will set you dreaming while you are basking under palm trees—the actual traveller will find the greatest disappointment of all in that respect. With one or two exceptions, such as the Troglodytes fuscus, a small brown wren which emits sweet musical notes, most birds of the Amazon have grating voices and harsh piercing whistles, or monotonous deep repetitions of two or three funereal notes which are more apt to drive you insane than to fascinate you. Among the most unmusical singers of the lower Amazon may be counted the several families of finches and fly-catchers, and the local thrushes, which feed on ants.

Similar disappointment awaits one in regard to the vegetation. People imagine Brazil a land of beautiful flowers, the forest made up of immense trees with luxuriant foliage, overladen with parasitic orchids—eternally in bloom, of course, in the dreamy minds of the untravelled, and just waiting to be picked and to be placed in one's buttonhole. The sky, naturally, over such a forest, could only be swarming with birds of all sizes, with plumage of the richest colours and hues; and what else could such a luxuriant country have in the way of butterflies and insects than some which resemble precious gems in the iridescent tones of their wings and bodies?

That is what people imagine. The following is what you really see.

The trees, overcrowded everywhere, far from being gigantic, are, instead, mean-looking and anæmic—not unlike the pallid, overgrown youth of the over-populated slums of a great city. Orchids? Yes, there are plenty of orchids about, but you never see them unless you go on a special search for them with a high ladder or some other such means of climbing high trees. In any case, you would not detect them unless you had the eye of an expert. It is well not to forget that in tropical climates, as in temperate zones, plants are not always in bloom when you happen to be passing. As for the butterflies, you seldom see any at all in the actual forest.

Perhaps one of the most common birds of the Amazon is a kind of grey-eyed, noisy, mimicking magpie, locally called guache or japim or jappelin (Cassicus icterranotus), quite amusing with its energetic movements, its observant habits, its familiar interest in everything and everybody, and its facility for reproducing correctly enough sounds which momentarily attract its attention. The wonderful activity of its slender body, clothed in velvety black, neatly-groomed yellow feathers, and its charming wickedness make it, perhaps, one of the most attractive birds near towns and settlements on the river. It builds elongated nests which are 20 to 30 in. in length, the entrance to which is in the lower portion. They are suspended from the branches of trees. As I have said, the large bay near the mouth of the Amazon has been named in honour of this bird.

Campas Indian Woman.

Another bird of great interest is the araruna (or Macrocerus hyacinthinus), a magnificent macaw of great size, which is perhaps the rarest and most beautiful found in the interior of Brazil from the northern end of the central plateau as far as the Amazon River. Its feathers are of a soft, metallic, dark greyish-blue, almost black, except round the eyes, where the uncovered white skin shows through. I have seen these birds in flight on four or five different occasions on the Tapajoz River, and tried in vain to secure a specimen. I generally saw them in couples, flying at a great height and speed. These birds are extremely intelligent, and become most affectionate and faithful companions to a considerate master. In fact, they will attack any one endeavouring to get near their owners. Their beaks are extremely strong. When in captivity they are disastrous to one's belongings, as they seem to possess an irresistible desire to crush and tear anything they see. They can chip off pieces of furniture made of the hardest wood with considerable ease. This is easily understood when you can see them crush into fragments the extremely hard nuts of the Acrocomia lasiopatha, on which they principally live.

Sir Roger Casement, of Putumayo atrocities fame, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at Manaos, possessed a most beautiful specimen of the Macrocerus hyacinthinus. It was most touching to see the pathetic devotion which existed between master and bird and vice versa. Only the people of the hotel where we both stayed did not appreciate the magnificent blue-black visitor, for when its master was out it spent all its time chipping off pieces from tables and chairs, and took the greatest pride and delight in flinging forks, knives and spoons off the dining-room tables, and tearing the menus to strips. The Brazilian waiters, in their caution to maintain their own anatomy intact, did not dare go near it; for the bird, even on hearing remarks made on its behaviour, would let itself down the sides of chairs and defiantly proceed to attack the intruders.

Similar but larger and more beautiful than this macaw is the ararama, extremely rare and perfectly black. The natives say that it is impossible to keep it in captivity as it is quite untameable. I saw a couple of these birds. They were really magnificent—certainly 3 ft. in length from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail.

When the steamer was close enough to the banks or an island we occasionally saw small groups of assahy palms (Euterpe oleracea) 20 to 30 ft. high, with smooth stems and feather-like foliage. Other palms, equally graceful, with stems like polished columns and delicately-cut fronds aloft, were also to be seen; but otherwise most of the vegetation was entangled and untidy.

From the trees hung liane in festoons or suspended like cords. Creepers of all kinds smothered the trunks and branches of the trees, which seemed to struggle for a little life and air; while, when we had an opportunity of examining the branches of the trees a little closer, we could see absolute swarms of parasites covering every bough.

Near some of the houses could be seen the Musa paradisiaca, the most common kind of banana palm in that region, with its green leaves ten to twelve feet long reflecting beautiful shades like silk velvet when caressed by the wind. I saw one or two specimens of the bread-fruit tree, with its digitated foliage, and several kinds of pine-apple plants (Bromelia)—some with leaves toothed along their edges, others shaped more like the blade of a long knife.

I was in great pain, and could not observe much. Also, most of the time we were at a great distance from the banks, and the river was so wide that it was almost like being in mid-ocean.

On November 14th we passed Obidos, at the mouth of the Rio Trombetas, the narrowest point, where the river went through a channel only 2,000 m. broad, but of extreme depth. The channel was formed by a depression between two hillocks 250 ft. high or so. The settlement of Obidos consisted of two long white buildings near the water, and a series of stores. To the left of the village as we looked at it was a high cliff extending for some 2,000 m. up stream over a beautiful beach. The cliff showed patches of red and yellow rock of a brilliant colour, the lower strata being of a deep red and clearly defined, the upper ones of a raw sienna colour, the dividing-line between the two colours being somewhat undulating. There was dense forest on the summit of the cliff. A good deal of vegetation had crept down and was clinging to the side of the cliff.

A little white church with a pointed spire stood on the highest point of the cliff, close to the town. Behind the cliff rose a hill of some height, upon which the better houses, with red-tiled roofs, were situated. A wide road led up to them.

The water of the stream was of a dirty yellow, and very turbulent owing to the strong wind that was blowing and the violent current. Proceeding up stream, we then came to a hill 300 ft. high on the right, which ended abruptly in an almost vertical red and yellow cliff plunging into the water. On the opposite side of the river, along the narrow neck, were lowlands, quite open and scantily wooded, over which rose great columns of black smoke, caused by the natives burning down the forest in order to prepare the land for their plantations. It was at this point that the entire volume of the Amazon could be gauged at a glance. As you looked up stream a long bluish line of low forest could be perceived over the gradually expanding deep yellow river. Dozens upon dozens of columns of smoke were visible. When night came the effects of those forest fires, with the reflection of the light upon the low clouds and in the water, were very weird and beautiful.

Greetings were occasionally exchanged upon the river as a big ocean steamer went by, or an over-enthusiastic captain let off rockets, which brought all the passengers from the dinner-table to the port-holes. Farther on we came to a pretty plantation on the left with innumerable banana palms crowded together, and some cocoa trees. At one time the exportation of cocoa from that section of the Amazon between Obidos and Santarem was considerable—some 8,000 kilos yearly. I was told that that industry has now gone down a great deal, and not more than 4,000 kilos were exported in 1911.

Campas Woman.

Campas Man, Woman and Child.

As we went farther up stream we passed alluvial banks of comparatively recent formation, in some places only one foot above the water and liable to constant inundation—in other places 10 or 12 ft. above the stream, and exposing an abrupt crumbling section of grey clay on a lower stratum with a narrow band of raw sienna colour. This yellow band rarely exceeded a thickness of 1 ft. We had an object-lesson here, where the banks were eroded by water and were gradually crumbling away, of the reason why the trees were so anæmic and generally died. The roots, instead of burrowing deep into the ground, spread out laterally in a horizontal position quite close to the surface of the ground. That night we had a beautiful effect of rain and smoke and the reflection from the fires, a wonderful study of reds and yellows and dark blues which would have fascinated the immortal painter Turner.

Farther on we passed an island 6 ft. above the water with beautiful green grass upon it, wonderful grazing land, and no trees whatever. On both sides of the channel we followed, in fact, we had fine open country all around, which seemed excellent for grazing purposes.

More interesting to me than the river itself were the wonderful effects of the ever-changing light in the sky. I saw no more the wonderful radiations which had given me so much pleasure in Matto Grosso, but we beheld here a great haze of delicate tones up to a great height and a light blue sky above it. The clouds seemed to possess no well-defined form, but were more like masses of mist, the edges blending gradually with the blue of the sky. Only to the west was there an attempt at globular formation in the clouds. The clouds of heavy smoke which rose and rolled about over the landscape helped to render the otherwise monotonous scene a little more picturesque.

Farther up stream we reached on the right a long island almost absolutely free from trees, except at its western end, where a miserable growth of sickly trees covered its point. Beyond was a beautiful spit of red sand some 2,000 m. long.

On November 15th we reached Itaquatiara, where the banks of the river were much higher than usual on the right side. I was much struck by the sight of a lot of fallen timber lying about on the slopes of the high bank, and by that of innumerable logs of wood floating on the water, quite an unusual sight in Brazilian waters. Itaquatiara was placed geographically on a most convenient site, opposite the mouth of the great Madeira River. Now that the Madeira-Mamore railway is completed, bringing down the trade of Bolivia and of the Acre territory, there is no doubt that it will become a most important trading centre. To my mind it is bound to supplant Manaos, which is very inconveniently situated, not on the Amazon River itself but on the tributary Rio Negro.

All the rubber which goes down the Madeira River has so far been conveyed to Manaos by a great detour, involving much expense and time. In the future, I think, when Itaquatiara has developed into a big city, and proper arrangements are made for landing and storing cargoes, it is certain to become a most important centre of commerce. Land is already going up in value tremendously, although Manaos has waged war against the growth of a town at that spot, which will be inimical to her own interests.

The Ucayalli River.

The Launch on which Author travelled almost to the Foot of the Andes.

As is well known, the Madeira-Mamore railway was built from Porto Velho, on the Madeira River, around and along a series of rapids and waterfalls which rendered navigation most difficult, as far as Guajara Merim, on the river Mamore, a mere continuation of the Madeira River. The construction of the railway had long been contemplated by the Brazilian and Bolivian Governments, but it was a difficult matter owing to the dense forest and the unhealthy climate, which equals, if it does not even surpass, the deadliness of Panama in the time of the French. The works of the railway were begun as long ago as 1878 by Collings Brothers, who were then contractors, but nothing effectively was done until the Brazilian Government, fully realizing the necessity of opening up that rich country, especially after the purchase from Bolivia of the Acre Territory, perhaps one of the richest regions on earth as far as rubber is concerned, entered into a contract with a Brazilian engineer named Catambry, to build the railway. The Brazilian engineer transferred the contract to Mr. Percival Farquhar, who, in his turn, organized the Madeira-Mamore Company, entrusting the actual construction of the railway to Messrs. May, Jeckill & Randolph.

They started work in July, 1907, with preliminary engineering, the actual construction not beginning until January 1908. Work began with one engine, a Baldwin locomotive rebuilt, which had been there since 1878. Gradually the number of engines—all Baldwin locomotives—was increased to twelve. During the construction six tugs and eleven lighters were used on the Madeira River for handling the material. The contractors took into Brazil during the four and a half years occupied in the construction from 43,000 to 45,000 men, although they never had more than 5,000 men working at any one time. Many, indeed, were the deaths registered, and the steamers were constantly bringing back men laid up with fever. The supplies for those men had all to be brought from Europe and America, except sugar and coffee, as nothing could be obtained in the country itself. The four chief engineers were all Americans, Mr. Randolph and Mr. Jeckill, who were at the head of the entire concern, spending all their time on the line in progress or at their head office in Manaos, which was mostly in charge of Mr. May. One chief surgeon, Dr. Carl Lovelace, handled all the hospital work, with the assistance of fifteen physicians; but innumerable were the lives lost from yellow fever and beri-beri, the two most prevalent diseases in that fatal country.

Campas Family wading across a Stream.

A Farmhouse on the Andes.

Before the railway was built it was necessary to unload the battellãos or trading boats thirty-eight times during the journey at the thirty-eight different rapids and falls on the way. The journey over the rapids took not less than forty days. I shall not speak of the constant danger to boats, their crews and merchandise. Now by the railway the entire journey occupies from eight to ten hours. The length of the completed railway, now in full working order, is 364 kil. The last rail was laid on April 30th, 1912, when Mrs. Jeckill drove the last and golden spike—an honour which no other white woman, I believe, has ever had in so inhospitable a country.