CHAPTER VIII.

THE FRENCH PHILOSOPHERS.

After so many abortive attempts to reach the Golden Empire, the ardor of research greatly abated. No expeditions, composed of considerable numbers, have since embarked in the enterprise; but from time to time, for the century succeeding Raleigh's last attempt, private expeditions were undertaken and encouraged by provincial governors; and several hundred persons perished miserably in those fruitless endeavors.

The adventure we are now about to record was of an entirely different character in respect to its objects and the means employed; but it occupied the same field of action, and called into exercise the same qualities of courage and endurance.

In 1735, the French Academy of Science made arrangements for sending out two commissions of learned men to different and distant parts of the world to make measurements, with a view to determining the dimensions and figure of the earth. The great astronomer, Sir Isaac Newton, had deduced from theory, and ventured to maintain, that the earth was not a perfect globe, but a spheroid; that is, a globe flattened at the poles. For a long time after Newton's splendid discoveries in astronomy, a degree of national jealousy prevented the French philosophers from accepting his conclusions; and they were not displeased to find, when they could, facts opposed to them. Now, there were some supposed facts which were incompatible with this idea of Newton's, that the earth was flattened at the poles. The point was capable of being demonstrated by measurements, with instruments, on the surface; for, if his theory was true, a degree of latitude would be longer in the northern parts of the globe than in the regions about the equator.

We must not allow our story to become a scientific essay; and yet we should like to give our readers, if we could, some idea of the principle on which this process, which is called the measurement of an arc of the meridian, was expected to show the magnitude and form of the earth. We all know that geographical latitude means the position of places north or south of the equator, and is determined by reference to the north or pole star. A person south of the equator would not see the pole-star at all. One at the equator, looking at the pole-star, would see it, if no intervening object prevented, in the horizon. Advancing northward, he would see it apparently rise, and advance toward him. As he proceeded, it would continue to rise. When he had traversed half the distance to the pole, he would see the pole-star about as we see it in Boston; that is, nearly midway between the horizon and the zenith: and, when he had reached the pole, he would see the pole-star directly over his head. Dividing the quarter circle which the star has moved through into ninety parts, we say, when the star has ascended one-ninetieth part, that the observer has travelled over one degree of latitude. When the observer has reached Boston, he has passed over somewhat more than forty-two degrees, and, when he has reached the north-pole, ninety degrees, of latitude. Thus we measure our latitude over the earth's surface by reference to a circle in the heavens; and, because the portions into which we divide that circle are equal, we infer that the portions of the earth's surface which correspond to them are equal. This would be true if the earth were a perfect globe: but if the earth be a spheroid, as Newton's theory requires it to be, it would not be true; for that portion of the earth's surface which is flattened will have less curvature than that which is not so, and less still than that portion which is protuberant. The degrees of least curvature will be longest, and those of greatest curvature shortest; that is, one would have to travel farther on the flattened part of the earth to see any difference in the position of the north-star than in those parts where the curvature is greater. So a degree of latitude near the pole, if determined by the position of the north-star, would be found, by actual measurement, to be longer than one similarly determined at the equator. It was to ascertain whether the fact was so that the two scientific expeditions were sent out.

The party which was sent to the northern regions travelled over snow and ice, swamps and morasses, to the arctic circle, and fixed their station at Tornea, in Lapland. The frozen surface of the river afforded them a convenient level for fixing what is called by surveyors the base line. The cold was so intense, that the glass froze to the mouth when they drank, and the metallic measuring rod to the hand. In spite, however, of perils and discomforts, they persevered in their task, and brought back careful measurements of a degree in latitude 66° north, to be compared with those made by the other party at the equator, whose movements we propose more particularly to follow.

Before we take leave of the northern commissioners, however, we will mention another method they took of demonstrating the same fact. If the earth be depressed at the poles, it must follow that bodies will weigh heavier there, because they are nearer the centre of the earth. But how could they test this fact, when all weights would be increased alike,—the pound of feathers and the pound of lead? The question was settled by observing the oscillation of a pendulum. The observers near the pole found that the pendulum vibrated faster than usual, because, being nearer the centre of the earth, the attracting power was increased. To balance this, they had to lengthen the pendulum; and the extent to which they had to do this measured the difference between the earth's diameter at the poles, and that in the latitude from which they came.

The commissioners who were sent to the equatorial regions were Messrs. Bouguer, La Condamine, and Godin, the last of whom was accompanied by his wife. Two Spanish officers, Messrs. Juan and De Ulloa, joined the commission. The party arrived at Quito in June, 1736, about two hundred years after Gonzalo Pizarro started from the same place in his search for Eldorado. In the interval, the country had become nominally Christian. The city was the seat of a bishopric, an audience royal, and other courts of justice; contained many churches and convents, and two colleges. But the population was almost entirely composed of Indians, who lived in a manner but very little different from that of their ancestors at the time of the conquest. Cuença was the place next in importance to the capital; and there, or in its neighborhood, the chief labors of the commission were transacted. They were conducted under difficulties as great as those of their colleagues in the frozen regions of the north, but of a different sort. The inhabitants of the country were jealous of the French commissioners, and supposed them to be either heretics or sorcerers, and to have come in search of gold-mines. Even persons connected with the administration employed themselves in stirring up the minds of the people, till at last, in a riotous assemblage at a bullfight, the surgeon of the French commissioners was killed. After tedious and troublesome legal proceedings, the perpetrators were let off with a nominal punishment. Notwithstanding every difficulty, the commissioners completed their work in a satisfactory manner, spending in all eight years in the task, including the voyages out and home.

The commissioners who had made the northern measurements reported the length of the degree at 66° north latitude to be 57.422 toises; Messrs. Bouguer and La Condamine, the equatorial degree, 56.753 toises; showing a difference of 669 toises, or 4,389¾ feet. The difference, as corrected by later measurements, is stated by recent authorities at 3,662 English feet; by which amount the polar degree exceeds the equatorial. Thus Newton's theory was confirmed.

His scientific labors having been finished, La Condamine conceived the idea of returning home by way of the Amazon River; though difficulties attended the project, which we who live in a land of mighty rivers, traversed by steamboats, can hardly imagine. The only means of navigating the upper waters of the river was by rafts or canoes; the latter capable of containing but one or two persons, besides a crew of seven or eight boatmen. The only persons who were in the habit of passing up and down the river were the Jesuit missionaries, who made their periodical visits to their stations along its banks. A young Spanish gentleman, Don Pedro Maldonado, who at first eagerly caught at the idea of accompanying the French philosopher on his homeward route by way of the river, was almost discouraged by the dissuasives urged by his family and friends, and seemed inclined to withdraw from the enterprise; so dangerous was the untried route esteemed. It was, however, at length resolved that they should hazard the adventure; and a place of rendezvous was appointed at a village on the river. On the 4th of July, 1743, La Condamine commenced his descent of one of the streams which flow into the great river of the Amazons. The stream was too precipitous in its descent to be navigated by boats of any kind, and the only method used was by rafts. These are made of a light kind of wood, or rather cane, similar to the bamboo, the single pieces of which are fastened together by rushes, in such a manner, that they yield to every shock of moderate violence, and consequently are not subject to be separated even by the strongest. On such a conveyance, the French philosopher glided down the stream of the Chuchunga, occasionally stopping on its banks for a day or two at a time to allow the waters to abate, and admit of passing a dangerous rapid more safely; and sometimes getting fast on the shallows, and requiring to be drawn off by ropes by the Indian boatmen. It was not till the 19th of July that he entered the main river at Laguna, where he found his friend Maldonado, who had been waiting for him some weeks.

On the 23d of July, 1743, they embarked in two canoes of forty-two and forty-four feet long, each formed out of one single trunk of a tree, and each provided with a crew of eight rowers. They continued their course night and day, in hopes to reach, before their departure, the brigantines of the missionaries, in which they used to send once a year, to Pará, the cacao which they collected in their missions, and for which they got, in return, supplies of European articles of necessity.

On the 25th of July, La Condamine and his companion passed the village of a tribe of Indians lately brought under subjection, and in all the wildness of savage life: on the 27th, they reached another more advanced in civilization, yet not so far as to have abandoned their savage practices of artificially flattening their heads, and elongating their ears. The 1st of August, they landed at a missionary station, where they found numerous Indians assembled, and some tribes so entirely barbarous as to be destitute of clothing for either sex. "There are in the interior," the narration goes on to say, "some tribes which devour the prisoners taken in war; but there are none such on the banks of the river."

After leaving this station, they sailed day and night, equal to seven or eight days' journey, without seeing any habitation. On the 5th of August, they arrived at the first of the Portuguese missionary stations, where they procured larger and more commodious boats than those in which they had advanced hitherto. Here they began to see the first signs of the benefits of access to European sources of supply, by means of the vessel which went every year from Pará to Lisbon. They tarried six days at the last of the missionary stations, and again made a change of boats and of Indian crews. On the 28th August, being yet six hundred miles from the sea, they perceived the ebb and flow of the tide.

On the 19th September, they arrived at Pará, which La Condamine describes as a great and beautiful city, built of stone, and enjoying a commerce with Lisbon, which made it flourishing and increasing. He observes, "It is, perhaps, the only European settlement where silver does not pass for money; the whole currency being cocoa." He adds in a note, "Specie currency has been since introduced."

The Portuguese authorities received the philosophers with all the civilities and hospitalities due to persons honored with the special protection and countenance of two great nations,—France and Spain. The cannon were fired; and the soldiers of the garrison, with the governor of the province at their head, turned out to receive them. The governor had received orders from the home government to pay all their expenses, and to furnish them every thing requisite for their comfort and assistance in their researches. La Condamine remained three months at Pará; and then, declining the urgent request of the governor to embark in a Portuguese vessel for home by way of Lisbon, he embarked in a boat rowed by twenty-two Indians, under the command of a Portuguese officer, to coast along the shores of the continent to the French colony of Cayenne.

The city of Pará from whence he embarked is not situated upon the Amazon River, but upon what is called the River of Pará, which branches off from the Amazon near its mouth, and discharges itself into the sea at a distance of more than a hundred miles east of the Amazon. The intervening land is an island called Marajo, along the coast of which La Condamine and his party steered till they came to the place where the Amazon River discharges into the sea that vast bulk of waters which has been swelled by the contributions of numerous tributaries throughout a course of more than three thousand miles in length. It here meets the current which runs along the north-eastern coast of Brazil, and gives rise to that phenomenon which is called by the Indians Pororoca. The river and the current, having both great rapidity, and meeting nearly at right angles, come into contact with great violence, and raise a mountain of water to the height of one hundred and eighty feet. The shock is so dreadful, that it makes all the neighboring islands tremble; and fishermen and navigators fly from it in the utmost terror. The river and the ocean appear to contend for the empire of the waves: but they seem to come to a compromise; for the sea-current continues its way along the coast of Guiana to the Island of Trinidad, while the current of the river is still observable in the ocean at a distance of five hundred miles from the shore.

La Condamine passed this place of meeting in safety by waiting for a favorable course of tides, crossing the Amazon at its mouth, steering north; and after many delays, caused by the timidity and bad seamanship of his Indian crew, arrived at last safe at Cayenne on the 26th February, 1744, having been eight months on his voyage, two of which were spent in his passage from Pará, a passage which he avers a French officer and crew, two years after him, accomplished in six days. La Condamine was received with all possible distinction at Cayenne, and in due time found passage home to France, where he arrived 25th February, 1745.

CHAPTER IX.

MADAME GODIN'S VOYAGE DOWN THE AMAZON.

One of the French commissioners, M. Godin, had taken with him on his scientific errand to Peru his wife; a lady for whom we bespeak the kind interest of our readers, for her name deserves honorable mention among the early navigators of the Amazon. The labors of the commission occupied several years; and when, in the year 1742, those labors were happily brought to a conclusion, M. Godin was prevented, by circumstances relating to himself individually, from accompanying his colleagues in their return to France. His detention was protracted from year to year, till at last, in 1749, he repaired alone to the Island of Cayenne to prepare every thing necessary for the homeward voyage of himself and his wife.

From Cayenne he wrote to Paris to the minister of marine, and requested that his government would procure for him the favorable interposition of the court of Portugal to supply him with the means of ascending the River Amazon to bring away his wife from Peru, and descend the stream with her to the Island of Cayenne. Thirteen years had rolled by since their arrival in the country, when at last Madame Godin saw her earnest wish to return home likely to be gratified. All that time, she had lived apart from her husband; she in Peru, he in the French colony of Cayenne. At last, M. Godin had the pleasure to see the arrival of a galoot (a small vessel having from sixteen to twenty oars on a side, and well adapted for rapid progress), which had been fitted out by the order of the King of Portugal, and despatched to Cayenne for the purpose of taking him on his long-wished-for journey. He immediately embarked; but, before he could reach the mouth of the Amazon River, he was attacked by so severe an illness, that he saw himself compelled to stop at Oyapoc, a station between Cayenne and the mouth of the river, and there to remain, and to send one Tristan, whom he thought his friend, in lieu of himself, up the river to seek Madame Godin, and escort her to him. He intrusted to him also, besides the needful money, various articles of merchandise to dispose of to the best advantage. The instructions which he gave him were as follows:—

The galiot had orders to convey him to Loreto about half-way up the Amazon River, the first Spanish settlement. From there he was to go to Laguna, another Spanish town about twelve miles farther up, and to give Mr. Godin's letter, addressed to his wife, in charge to a certain ecclesiastic of that place, to be forwarded to the place of her residence. He himself was to wait at Laguna the arrival of Madame Godin.

The galiot sailed, and arrived safe at Loreto. But the faithless Tristan, instead of going himself to Laguna, or sending the letter there, contented himself with delivering the packet to a Spanish Jesuit, who was going to quite another region on some occasional purpose. Tristan himself, in the mean while, went round among the Portuguese settlements to sell his commodities. The result was, that M. Godin's letter, passing from hand to hand, failed to reach the place of its destination.

Meanwhile, by what means we know not, a blind rumor of the purpose and object of the Portuguese vessel lying at Loreto reached Peru, and came at last, but without any distinctness, to the ears of Madame Godin. She learned through this rumor that a letter from her husband was on the way to her; but all her efforts to get possession of it were fruitless. At last, she resolved to send a faithful negro servant, in company with an Indian, to the Amazon, to procure, if possible, more certain tidings. This faithful servant made his way boldly through all hinderances and difficulties which beset his journey, reached Loreto, talked with Tristan, and brought back intelligence that he, with the Portuguese vessel and all its equipments, were for her accommodation, and waited her orders.

Now, then, Madame Godin determined to undertake this most perilous and difficult journey. She was staying at the time at Riobamba, about one hundred and twenty miles south of Quito, where she had a house of her own with garden and grounds. These, with all other things that she could not take with her, she sold on the best terms she could. Her father, M. Grandmaison, and her two brothers, who had been living with her in Peru, were ready to accompany her. The former set out beforehand to a place the other side of the Cordilleras to make arrangements for his daughter's journey on her way to the ship.

Madame Godin received about this time a visit from a certain Mr. R., who gave himself out for a French physician, and asked permission to accompany her. He promised, moreover, to watch over her health, and to do all in his power to lighten the fatigues and discomforts of the arduous journey. She replied, that she had no authority over the vessel which was to carry her, and therefore could not answer for it that he could have a place in it. Mr. R., thereupon, applied to the brothers of Madame Godin; and they, thinking it very desirable that she should have a physician with her, persuaded their sister to consent to take him in her company.

So, then, she started from Riobamba, which had been her home till this time, the 1st of October, 1749, in company of the above-named persons, her black man, and three Indian women. Thirty Indians, to carry her baggage, completed her company. Had the luckless lady known what calamities, sufferings, and disappointments awaited her, she would have trembled at the prospect, and doubted of the possibility of living through it all, and reaching the wished-for goal of her journey.

The party went first across the mountains to Canelos, an Indian village, where they thought to embark on a little stream which discharges itself into the Amazon. The way thither was so wild and unbroken, that it was not even passable for mules, and must be travelled entirely on foot.

M. Grandmaison, who had set out a whole month earlier, had stopped at Canelos no longer than was necessary to make needful preparations for his daughter and her attendants. Then he had immediately pushed on toward the vessel, to still keep in advance, and arrange matters for her convenience at the next station to which she would arrive. Hardly had he left Canelos, when the small-pox, a disease which in those regions is particularly fatal, broke out, and in one week swept off one-half of the inhabitants, and so alarmed the rest, that they deserted the place, and plunged into the wilderness. Consequently, when Madame Godin reached the place with her party, she found, to her dismay, only two Indians remaining, whom the fury of the plague had spared; and, moreover, not the slightest preparation either for her reception, or her furtherance on her journey. This was the first considerable mishap which befell her, and which might have served to forewarn her of the greater sufferings which she was to encounter.

A second followed shortly after. The thirty Indians who thus far had carried the baggage, and had received their pay in advance, suddenly absconded, whether from fear of the epidemic, or that they fancied, having never seen a vessel except at a distance, that they were to be compelled to go on board one, and be carried away. There stood, then, the deserted and disappointed company, overwhelmed, and knowing not what course to take, or how to help themselves. The safest course would have been to leave all their baggage to its fate, and return back the way they came; but the longing of Madame Godin for her beloved husband, from whom she had now been separated so many years, gave her courage to bid defiance to all the hinderances which lay in her way, and even to attempt impossibilities.

She set herself, therefore, to persuade the two Indians above mentioned to construct a boat, and, by means of it, to take her and her company to Andoas, another place about twelve days' journey distant. They willingly complied, receiving their pay in advance. The boat was got ready; and all the party embarked in it under the management of the two Indians.

After they had run safely two days' journey down the stream, they drew up to the bank to pass the night on shore. Here the treacherous Indians took the opportunity, while the weary company slept, to run away; and, when the travellers awoke next morning, they were nowhere to be found. This was a new and unforeseen calamity, by which their future progress was rendered greatly more hazardous.

Without a knowledge of the stream or the country, and without a guide, they again got on board their boat, and pushed on. The first day went by without any misadventure. The second, they came up with a boat which lay near the shore, alongside of an Indian hut built of branches of trees. They found there an Indian, just recovered from the sickness, and prevailed on him, by presents, to embark with them to take the helm. But fate envied them this relief: for, the next day, Mr. R.'s hat fell into the water; and the Indian, in endeavoring to recover it, fell overboard, and was drowned, not having strength to swim to the shore.

Now was the vessel again without a pilot, and steered by persons, not one of whom had the least knowledge of the course. Ere long, the vessel sprung a leak; and the unhappy company found themselves compelled to land, and build a hut to shelter them.

They were yet five or six days' journey from Andoas, the nearest place of destination. Mr. R. offered, for himself and another Frenchman his companion, to go thither, and make arrangements, that, within fourteen days, a boat from there should arrive and bring them off. His proposal was approved of. Madame Godin gave him her faithful black man to accompany him. He himself took good care that nothing of his property should be left behind.

Fourteen days were now elapsed; but in vain they strained their eyes to catch sight of the bark which Mr. R. had promised to send to their relief. They waited twelve days longer, but in vain. Their situation grew more painful every day.

At last, when all hope in this quarter was lost, they hewed trees, and fastened them together as well as they could, and made in this way a raft. When they had finished it, they put on their baggage, and seated themselves upon it, and suffered it to float down the stream. But even this frail bark required a steersman acquainted with navigation; but they had none such. In no long time, it struck against a sunken log, and broke to pieces. The people and their baggage were cast into the river. Great, however, as was the danger, no one was lost. Madame Godin sunk twice to the bottom, but was at last rescued by her brothers.

Wet through and through, exhausted, and half dead with fright, they at last all gained the shore. But only imagine their lamentable, almost desperate, condition! All their supplies lost; to make another raft impossible; even their stock of provisions gone! And where were they when all these difficulties overwhelmed them? In a horrid wilderness, so thick grown up with trees and bushes, that one could make a passage through it no other way than by axe and knife; inhabited only by fiercest tigers, and by the most formidable of serpents,—the rattlesnake. Moreover, they were without tools, without weapons! Could their situation be more deplorable?

CHAPTER X.

MADAME GODIN'S VOYAGE CONTINUED.

The unfortunate travellers had now but the choice of two desperate expedients,—either to wait where they were the termination of their wretched existence, or try the almost impossible task of penetrating along the banks of the river, through the unbroken forest, till they might reach Andoas. They chose the latter, but first made their way back to their lately forsaken hut to take what little provisions they had there left. Having accomplished this, they set out on their most painful and dangerous journey. They observed, when they followed the shore of the river, that its windings lengthened their way. To avoid this, they endeavored, without leaving the course of the river, to keep a straight course. By this means, they lost themselves in the entangled forest; and every exertion to find their way was ineffectual. Their clothes were torn to shreds, and hung dangling from their limbs; their bodies were sadly wounded by thorns and briers; and, as their scanty provision of food was almost gone, nothing seemed left to them but to sustain their wretched existence with wild fruit, seeds and buds of the palm-trees.

At last, they sank under their unremitted labor. Wearied with the hardships of such travel, torn and bleeding in every part of their bodies, and distracted with hunger, terror, and apprehensions, they lost the small remnant of their energy, and could do no more. They sat down, and had no power to rise again. In three or four days, one after another died at this stage of their journey. Madame Godin lay for the space of twenty-four hours by the side of her exhausted and helpless brothers and companions: she felt herself benumbed, stupefied, senseless, yet at the same time tormented by burning thirst. At last, Providence, on whom she relied, gave her courage and strength to rouse herself and seek for a rescue, which was in store for her, though she knew not where to look for it.

Around lay the dead bodies of her brothers and her other companions,—a sight which at another time would have broken her heart. She was almost naked. The scanty remnants of her clothing were so torn by the thorns as to be almost useless. She cut the shoes from her dead brothers' feet, bound the soles under her own, and plunged again into the thicket in search of something to allay her raging hunger and thirst. Terror at seeing herself so left alone in such a fearful wilderness, deserted by all the world, and apprehension of a dreadful death constantly hovering before her eyes, made such an impression upon her, that her hair turned gray.

It was not till the second day after she had resumed her wandering that she found water, and, a little while after, some wild fruit, and a few eggs of birds. But her throat was so contracted by long fasting, that she could hardly swallow. These served to keep life in her frame.

Eight long days she wandered in this manner hopelessly, and strove to sustain her wretched existence. If one should read in a work of fiction any thing equal to it, he would charge the author with exaggeration, and violation of probability. But it is history; and, however incredible her story may sound, it is rigidly conformed to the truth in all its circumstances, as it was afterwards taken down from the mouth of Madame Godin herself.

On the eighth day of her hopeless wandering, the hapless lady reached the banks of the Bobonosa, a stream which flows into the Amazon. At the break of day, she heard at a little distance a noise, and was alarmed at it. She would have fled, but at once reflected that nothing worse than her present circumstances could happen to her. She took courage, and went towards the place whence the sound proceeded; and here she found two Indians, who were occupied in shoving their boat into the water.

Madame Godin approached, and was kindly received by them. She told to them her desire to be conveyed to Andoas; and the good savages consented to carry her thither in their boat. They did so; and now behold her arrived at that place which the mean and infamous treachery of Mr. R. was the only cause of her not having reached long ago. This base fellow had, with unfeeling cruelty, thrown to the winds his promise to procure them a boat, and had gone on business of his own to Omaguas, a Spanish mission station, without in the least troubling himself about his pledged word, and the rescue of the unfortunates left behind. The honest negro was more true to duty, though he was born and bred a heathen, and the other a Christian.

While the civilized and polished Frenchman unfeelingly went away, and left his benefactress and her companions to languish in the depths of misery, the sable heathen ceased not his exertions till he had procured two Indians to go up the river with him, and bring away his deserted mistress and her companions. But, most unfortunately, he did not reach the hut where he had left them before they had carried into execution the unlucky determination to leave the hut, and seek their way through the wilderness. So he had the pain of failing to find her on his arrival.

Even then, the faithful creature did not feel as if all was done. He, with his Indian companions, followed the traces of the party till he came to the place where the bodies of the perished adventurers lay, which were already so decayed, that he could not distinguish one from the other. This pitiable sight led him to conclude that none of the company could have escaped death. He returned to the hut to take away some things of Madame Godin's which were left there, and carried them not only back with him to Andoas, but from thence (another touching proof of his fidelity) to Omaguas, that he might deposit the articles, some of which were of considerable value, in the hands of the unworthy Mr. R., to be by him delivered to the father of his lamented mistress.

And how did this unworthy Mr. R. behave when he was apprised by the negro of the lamentable death of those whom he had so unscrupulously given over to destitution? Did he shudder at the magnitude and baseness of his crime? Oh, no! Like a heartless knave, he added dishonesty to cruelty, took the things into his keeping, and, to secure himself in the possession of them, sent the generous negro back to Quito. Joachim—for that was the name of this honest and noble black man—had unluckily set out on his journey back before Madame Godin arrived at Andoas. Thus he was lost to her; and her affliction at the loss of such a tried friend showed that the greatness of her past misfortunes had not made her incapable of feeling new distresses.

In Andoas she found a Christian priest, a Spanish missionary; and the behavior of this unchristian Christian contrasts with the conduct of her two Indian preservers, as that of the treacherous R. with that of the generous negro. For instance, when Madame Godin was in embarrassment how to show her gratitude to the good Indians who had saved her life, she remembered, that, according to the custom of the country, she wore around her neck a pair of gold chains, weighing about four ounces. These were her whole remaining property; but she hesitated not a moment, but took them off, and gave one to each of her benefactors. They were delighted beyond measure at such a gift; but the avaricious and dishonest priest took them away from them before the face of the generous giver, and gave them instead some yards of coarse cotton cloth, which they call, in that country, Tukujo. And this man was one of those who were sent to spread Christianity among the heathen, and one from whom those same Indians whom he had treated so dishonestly would hear the lesson, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods"!

Madame Godin felt, at seeing such unchristian and unmanly behavior, such deep disgust, that, as soon as she was somewhat recruited from the effects of so many sufferings, she longed for a sight of some boat to enable her to escape from the companionship of this unjust priest, and get to Laguna, one of the aforementioned Spanish mission stations. A kind Indian woman made her a petticoat of cotton cloth, though Madame Godin had nothing to give her in payment for it. But this petticoat was to her, afterwards, a sacred thing, that she would not have parted with for any price. She laid it carefully away with the slippers which she made of her brothers' shoes, and never could, in after-times, look at the two without experiencing a rush of sad and tender recollections.

At Laguna she had the good fortune to find a missionary of better disposition. This one received her with kindness and sympathy, and exerted himself every way he could to restore her health, shattered by so much suffering. He wrote also on her behalf to the Governor of Omaguas, to beg him to aid in expediting her journey. By this means, the elegant Mr. R. learned that she was still alive; and as she was not likely in future to be burdensome to him, while he might, through her means, get a passage in the Portuguese vessel, he failed not to call upon her at Laguna. He delivered to her there some few of the things which Joachim had left in his charge; but to the question, "What had become of the rest?" he had no other answer to make but "They were spoilt." The knave forgot, when he said this, that gold bracelets, snuff-boxes, ear-rings, and pearls, of which this property consisted, are not apt to spoil.

Madame Godin could not forbear making to him the well-merited reproach that he was the cause of her late sufferings, and guilty of the mournful death of her brothers and her other companions. She desired to know, moreover, why he had sent away her faithful servant, the good Joachim; and his unworthy reply was, he had apprehensions that he would murder him. To the question, how he could have such a suspicion against a man whose tried fidelity and honest disposition were known to him, he knew not what to answer.

The good missionary explained to Madame Godin, after she was somewhat recruited from her late sufferings, the frightful length of the way, and the labors and dangers of her journey yet to come, and tried hard to induce her to alter her intention, and return to Rio Bambas, her former residence, instead of setting forth to encounter a new series of disappointments and perils. He promised, in that case, to convey her safely and with comfort. But the heroic woman rejected the proposal with immovable firmness. "God, who had so wonderfully protected her so far," she said, "would have her in his keeping for the remainder of her way. She had but one wish remaining, and that was to be re-united to her husband; and she knew no danger terrible enough to induce her to give up this one ruling desire of her heart."

The missionary, therefore, had a boat got ready to carry her to the Portuguese vessel. The Governor of Omaguas furnished the boat, and supplied it well with provisions: and, that the commander of the Portuguese galiot might be informed of her approach, he sent a smaller boat with provisions, and two soldiers by land, along the banks of the river, and betook himself to Loreto, where the galiot had been so long lying; and there he waited till Madame Godin arrived.

She still suffered severely from the consequences of the injuries which she had sustained during her wanderings in the wilderness. Particularly, the thumb of one hand, in which she had thrust a thorn, which they had not been able to get out, was in a bad condition. The bone itself was become carious, and she found it necessary to have the flesh cut open to allow fragments of the bone to come out. As for the rest, she experienced from the commander of the Portuguese vessel all possible kindness, and reached the mouth of the Amazon River without any further misadventure.

Mr. Godin, who still continued at Oyapoc (the same place where on account of sickness he had been obliged to stop), was no sooner informed of the approach of his wife than he went on board a vessel, and coasted along the shore till he met the galiot. The joy of again meeting, after a separation of so many years, and after such calamities undergone, was, as may well be supposed, on both sides, indescribably great. Their re-union seemed like a resurrection from the dead, since both of them had more than once given up all hope of ever seeing the other in this life.

The happy husband now conveyed his wife to Oyapoc, and thence to Cayenne; whence they departed on their return to France, in company with the venerable Mr. De Grandmaison. Madame Godin remained, however, constantly sad, notwithstanding her present ample cause for joy; and every endeavor to raise her spirits was fruitless, so deep and inextinguishable an impression had the terrible sufferings she had undergone made upon her mind. She spoke unwillingly of all that she had suffered; and even her husband found out with difficulty, and by little and little, the circumstances which we have narrated, taken from accounts under his own hand. He thought he could thereby infer that she had kept to herself, to spare his feelings, many circumstances of a distressing nature, which she herself preferred to forget. Her heart, too, was, by reason of her sufferings, so attuned to pity and forbearance, that her compassion even extended to the base and wicked men who had treated her with such injustice. She would therefore add nothing to induce her husband to invoke the vengeance of the law against the faithless Tristan, the first cause of all her misfortunes, who had converted to his own use many thousand dollars' worth of property which had been intrusted to him. She had even allowed herself to be persuaded to take on board the boat from Omaguas down, for a second time, the mean-souled Mr. R.

So true is it that adversity and suffering do fulfil the useful purpose of rendering the human heart tender, placable, and indulgent.

CHAPTER XI.

HERNDON'S EXPEDITION.

In the month of August, 1850, Lieut. Herndon, of the United-States navy, being on board the frigate "Vandalia," then lying at anchor in the harbor of Valparaiso, received information that he was designated by the Secretary of the Navy to explore the Valley of the Amazon. On the 4th of April, being then at Lima, he received his orders, and, on the 21st of May, commenced his land journey to the highest point on the Amazon navigable for boats, which is about three hundred miles from its source; in which distance there are twenty-seven rapids, the last of which is called the Pongo (or falls) de Manseriche. Over these the water rushes with frightful rapidity; but they are passed, with great peril and difficulty, by means of rafts. From the Pongo de Manseriche, Lieut. Herndon states that an unbroken channel of eighteen feet in depth may be found to the Atlantic Ocean,—a distance of three thousand miles.

The party consisted of Lieut. Herndon, commander; Passed-midshipman Gibbon; a young master's mate named Richards; a young Peruvian, who had made the voyage down the Amazon a few years before, who was employed as interpreter to the Indians; and Mauricio, an Indian servant. They were mounted on mules; and their baggage of all kinds, including looking-glasses, beads, and other trinkets for the Indians, and some supplies of provisions, were carried also on muleback, under the charge of an arriero, or muleteer, who was an Indian. The party were furnished with a tent, which often came in use for nightly shelter, as the roadside inns furnished none, and the haciendas, or farm-houses, which they sometimes availed themselves of, afforded but poor accommodation. The following picture of the lieutenant's first night's lodgings, not more than ten miles from Lima, is a specimen: "The house was built of adobe, or sun-dried bricks, and roofed with tiles. It had but one room, which was the general receptacle for all comers. A mud projection, of two feet high and three wide, stood out from the walls of the room all around, and served as a permanent bedplace for numbers. Others laid their blankets and cloaks, and stretched themselves, on the floor; so that, with whites, Indians, negroes, trunks, packages, horse-furniture, game-cocks, and guinea-pigs, we had quite a caravansera appearance."

The lieutenant found the general answer to his inquiry for provisions for his party, and of fodder for their animals, was, "No hay" (there is none). The refusal of the people to sell supplies of these indispensable articles was a source of continued inconvenience. It arose probably from their fear to have it known that they had possessions, lest the hand of authority should be laid upon them, and their property be taken without payment. The cultivators, it must be remembered, are native Indians, under the absolute control of their Spanish masters, and have no recognized rights protected by law. While this state of things continues, civilization is effectually debarred progress.

The usual day's travel was twelve to fifteen miles. The route ascended rapidly; and the River Rimac, along whose banks their road lay, was soon reduced to a mountain torrent, raging in foam over the fragments of the rocky cliffs which overhung its bed. The road occasionally widened out, and gave room for a little cultivation.

May 27.—They had now reached a height of ten thousand feet above the level of the sea. Here the traveller feels that he is lifted above the impurities of the lower regions of the atmosphere, and is breathing air free from taint. The stars sparkled with intense brilliancy. The temperature at night was getting cool, and the travellers found they required all their blankets. But by day the heat was oppressive until tempered by the sea-breeze, which set in about eleven o'clock in the morning.

The productions of the country are Indian corn, alfalfa (a species of lucern), and potatoes. The potato, in this its native country, is small, but very fine. They saw here a vegetable of the potato kind called oca. Boiled or roasted, it is very agreeable to the taste, in flavor resembling green corn.

Here they entered upon the mining region. "The Earth here shows her giant skeleton bare: mountains, rather than rocks, rear their gray heads to the skies; and proximity made the scene more striking and sublime." Lieut. Herndon had brought letters to the superintendent of the mines, who received the travellers kindly and hospitably. This establishment is managed by a superintendent and three assistants, and about forty working hands. The laborers are Indians,—strong, hardy-looking fellows, though low in stature, and stupid in expression. The manner of getting the silver from the ore is this: The ore is broken into pieces of the size of an English walnut, and then ground to a fine powder. The ground ore is then mixed with salt, at the rate of fifty pounds of salt to every six hundred of ore, and taken to the ovens to be toasted. After being toasted, the ore is laid in piles of about six hundred pounds upon the stone floor. The piles are then moistened with water, and quicksilver is sprinkled on them through a woollen cloth. The mass is well mixed by treading with the feet, and working with hoes. A little calcined iron pyrites, called magistral, is also added. The pile is often examined to see if the amalgamation is going on well. It is left to stand for eight or nine days until the amalgamation is complete; then carried to an elevated platform, and thrown into a well, or cavity: a stream of water is turned on, and four or five men trample and wash it with their feet. The amalgam sinks to the bottom, and the mud and water are let off by an aperture in the lower part of the well. The amalgam is then put into conical bags of coarse linen, which are hung up; and the weight of the mass presses out a quantity of quicksilver, which oozes through the linen, and is caught in vessels below. The mass, now dry, and somewhat harder than putty, is carried to the ovens, where the remainder of the quicksilver is driven off by heat, and the residue is plata pina, or pure silver. The proportion of pure silver in the amalgam is about twenty-two per cent. This is an unusually rich mine.

Returning from the mine, the party met a drove of llamas on their way from the hacienda. This is quite an imposing sight, especially when the drove is encountered suddenly at a turn of the road. The leader, who is always selected on account of his superior height, has his head decorated with tufts of woollen fringe, hung with little bells; and his great height (often six feet), gallant and graceful carriage, pointed ear, restless eye, and quivering lip, as he faces you for a moment, make him as striking an object as one can well conceive. Upon pressing on him, he bounds aside either up or down the cliff, and is followed by the herd, scrambling over places that would be impassable for the mule or the ass. The llama travels not more than nine or ten miles a day, his load being about one hundred and thirty pounds. He will not carry more, and will be beaten to death rather than move when he is overloaded or tired. The males only are worked: they appear gentle and docile, but, when irritated, have a very savage look, and spit at the object of their resentment. The guanaco, or alpaca, is another species of this animal, and the vicunia a third. The guanaco is as large as the llama, and bears a fleece of long and coarse wool. The vicunia is much smaller, and its wool is short and fine: so valuable is it, that it brings at the port of shipment a dollar a pound. Our travellers saw no guanacos, but now and then, in crossing the mountains, caught a glimpse of the wild and shy vicunia. They go in herds of ten or fifteen females, accompanied by one male, who is ever on the alert. On the approach of danger, he gives warning by a shrill whistle; and his charge make off with the speed of the wind.

On the 31st of May, the thermometer stood at thirty-six degrees at five, A.M. This, it must be remembered, was in the torrid zone, in the same latitude as Congo in Africa, and Sumatra in Asia; yet how different the climate! This is owing to the elevation, which at this water-shed of the continent, which separates the rivers of the Atlantic from those of the Pacific, was about sixteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. The peaks of the Cordillera presented the appearance of a hilly country at home on a winter's day; while the lower ranges were dressed in bright green, with placid little lakes interspersed, giving an air of quiet beauty to the scene.

The travellers next arrived at Morococha, where they found copper-mining to be the prevailing occupation. The copper ore is calcined in the open air, in piles consisting of ore and coal, which burn for a month. The ore thus calcined is taken to the ovens; and sufficient heat is employed to melt the copper, which runs off into moulds below. The copper, in this state, is impure, containing fifty per cent of foreign matter; and is worth fifteen cents the pound in England, where it is refined. There is a mine of fine coal near the hacienda, which yields an abundant supply.

The travellers passed other mining districts, rich in silver and copper. A large portion of the silver which forms the circulation of the world is dug from the range of mountains which they were now crossing, and chiefly from that slope of them which is drained off into the Amazon.

Their descent, after leaving the mining country, was rapid. On June 6, we find them at the head of a ravine leading down to the Valley of Tarma. The height of this spot above the level of the sea was 11,270 feet. As they rode down the steep descent, the plants and flowers that they had left on the other side began to re-appear. First the short grass and small clover, then barley, lucern, Indian corn, beans, turnips, shrubs, bushes, trees, flowers, growing larger and gayer in their colors, till the pretty little city of Tarma, imbosomed among the hills, and enveloped in its covering of willows and fruit-trees, with its long lawns of alfalfa (the greenest of grasses) stretching out in front, broke upon their view. It is a place of seven thousand inhabitants, beautifully situated in an amphitheatre of mountains, which are clothed nearly to the top with waving fields of barley. The lieutenant gives an attractive description of this mountain city, whose natural productions extend from the apples and peaches of the temperate zone to the oranges and pine-apples of the tropics; and whose air is so temperate and pure, that there was but one physician to a district of twenty thousand people, and he was obliged to depend upon government for a part of his support.

The party left Tarma on the 16th of June, and resumed their descent of the mountains. The ride was the wildest they had yet had. The ascents and descents were nearly precipitous; and the scene was rugged, wild, and grand beyond description. At certain parts of the road, it is utterly impossible for two beasts to pass abreast, or for one to turn and retreat; and the only remedy, when they meet, is to tumble one off the precipice, or to drag him back by the tail until he reaches a place where the other can pass. They met with a considerable fright in this way one day. They were riding in single file along one of those narrow ascents where the road is cut out of the mountain-side, and the traveller has a perpendicular wall on one hand, and a sheer precipice of many hundreds of feet upon the other. Mr. Gibbon was riding ahead. Just as he was about to turn a sharp bend of the road, the head of a bull peered round it, on the descent. When the bull came in full view, he stopped; and the travellers could see the heads of other cattle clustering over his quarters, and hear the shouts of the cattle-drivers far behind, urging on their herd. The bull, with lowered crest, and savage, sullen look, came slowly on, and actually got his head between the perpendicular rock and the neck of Gibbon's mule. But the sagacious beast on which he was mounted, pressing her haunches hard against the wall, gathered her feet close under her, and turned as upon a pivot. This placed the bull on the outside (there was room to pass, though no one would have thought it); and he rushed by at the gallop, followed in single file by the rest of the herd. The lieutenant owns that he and his friend "felt frightened."

On the 18th of June, they arrived at the first hacienda, where they saw sugar-cane, yucca, pine-apples, and plantains. Besides these, cotton and coffee were soon after found in cultivation. The laborers are native Indians, nominally free, but, by the customs of the country, pretty closely held in subjection to their employers. Their nominal wages are half a dollar a day; but this is paid in articles necessary for their support, which are charged to them at such prices as to keep them always in debt. As debtors, the law will enforce the master's claim on them; and it is almost hopeless for them to desert; for, unless they get some distance off before they are recognized, they will be returned as debtors to their employers. Freedom, under such circumstances, is little better than slavery; but it is better, for this reason,—that it only requires some improvement in the intelligence and habits of the laborers to convert it into a system of free labor worthy of the name.

The yucca (cassava-root) is a plant of fifteen or twenty feet in height. It is difficult to distinguish this plant from the mandioc, which is called "wild yucca;" and this, "sweet yucca." This may be eaten raw; but the other is poisonous until subjected to heat in cooking, and then is perfectly wholesome. The yucca answers the same purpose in Peru that the mandioc does in Brazil. It is the general substitute for bread, and, roasted or boiled, is very pleasant to the taste. The Indians also make from it an intoxicating drink. Each plant will give from twenty to twenty-five pounds of the eatable root, which grows in clusters like the potato, and some tubers of which are as long and thick as a man's arm.