114 A JOURNEY IN BRAZIL. 
vated at the expense of taste and beauty, but to remind 
his country people also, that, extensive as are the forests, 
they will not last forever, and that it will be necessary 
to emigrate before long to find new coffee grounds, if 
the old ones are to be considered worthless. Another 
of his reforms is that of the roads, already alluded to. 
The ordinary roads in the coffee plantations, like the mule- 
tracks all over the country, are carried straight up the 
sides of the hills between the lines of shrubs, gullied by 
every rain, and offering, besides, so steep an ascent that 
even with eight or ten oxen it is often impossible to drive 
the clumsy, old-fashioned carts up the slope, and the negroes 
are obliged to bring a great part of the harvest down on 
their heads. An American, who has been a great deal on 
the coffee fazendas in this region, told me that he had seen 
negroes bringing enormous burdens of this kind on their 
heads down almost vertical slopes. On Senhor Lage's 
estate all these old roads are abandoned, except where 
they are planted here and there with alleys of orange- 
trees for the use of the negroes, and he has substituted 
for them winding roads in the side of the hill with a 
very gradual ascent, so that light carts dragged by a 
single mule can transport all the harvest from the sum- 
mit of the plantation to the drying-ground. It was the 
harvesting season, and the spectacle was a pretty one. 
The negroes, men and women, were scattered about the 
plantations with broad, shallow trays, made of plaited grass 
or bamboo, strapped over their shoulders and supported at 
their waists ; into these they were gathering the coffee, 
some of the berries being brilliantly red, some already 
beginning to dry and turn brown, while here and there 
was a green one not yet quite ripe, but soon to ripen in the 
