450 A JOURNEY IN BRAZIL. 

dent had kindly detailed to accompany us, Mr. Agassiz, 
and myself. We had a servant, also provided by the 
President, one of his guard, and two men, with a couple 
of pack-mules for baggage and provisions. We started 
so late in the day, that our first ride was but a league 
or so out of the town ; short as it was, however, we did 
not escape several showers, always to be expected at this 
season. Yet the ride was pleasant ; a smell as of huckle- 
berry meadows came from the low growth of shrubs cover- 
ing the fields for miles around, and the very earth was 
fragrant from the rain. As we left the city, low clouds, 
full of distant showers, hung over the serras, and gave 
them a sombre beauty, more impressive, if less cheerful, 
than their sunshine look. At six o'clock we reached Aran- 
cho, a village where we were to pass the night. As we 
rode in at dusk, it seemed to me only a little cluster of low 
mud-houses ; but I found, by daylight, there were one or 
two buildings of more pretentious character. We stopped 
at the end of the principal street, before the venda (village 
inn). At the door, which opened across the middle, al- 
lowing its lower half to serve as a sort of gate, stood 
the host, little expecting guests on this dark, rainy night. 
He was a fat old man, with a head as round as a bullet, 
covered with very short white curly hair, and a face 
beaming with good nature, but reddened also by many 
potations. He was dressed in white cotton drawers with 
a shirt hanging loose over them ; his feet were stocking- 
less, but he had on a pair of the wooden-soled slippers, 
down at heel, of which you hear the "clack, clack' in 
every town and village during the rainy season. He 
opened the gate and admitted us into a small room fur- 
nished with a hammock, a sofa, and a few chairs, the mud 
