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84 THE TOCANTINS AND CAMETA. Cuap. IV. 
squall of wind burst forth, which made the loose tiles fly over the house- 
tops ; to this succeeded lightning and stupendous claps of thunder, 
both nearly simultaneous. “We had had several of these short and 
sharp storms during the past month. At midnight, when we embarked, 
all was as calm as though a ruffle had never disturbed air, forest, or river. 
The boat sped along like an arrow to the rhythmic paddling of the four 
stout youths we had with us, who enlivened the passage with their wild 
songs. Mr. Patchett and I tried to get a little sleep, but the cabin was 
so small and encumbered with boxes placed at all sorts of angles, that 
we found sleep impossible. I was just dozing when the day dawned, 
and, on awaking, the first object I saw was the Sazfa Rosa, at anchor 
under a green island in mid-river. I preferred to make the remainder 
of the voyage in the company of my collections, so bade Mr. Patchett 
good-day. The owner of the Santa Rosa, Senhor Jacinto Machado, 
whom I had not seen before, received me aboard, and apologised for 
having started without me. He was a white man, a planter, and was 
now taking his year’s produce of cacao, about twenty tons, to Para. 
The canoe was very heavily laden, and I was rather alarmed to see that 
it was leaking at all points. The crew were all in the water, diving 
about to feel for the holes, which they stopped with pieces of rag and 
clay, and an old negro was baling the water out of the hold. This was 
a pleasant prospect for a three days’ voyage! Senhor Machado treated 
it as the most ordinary incident possible: ‘‘ It was always likely to leak, 
for it was an old vessel that had been left as worthless high and dry on 
the beach, and he had bought it very cheap.” 
When the leaks were stopped, we proceeded on our journey, and at 
night reached the mouth of the Anapt. I wrapped myself up in an old 
sail, and fell asleep on the raised deck. The next day we threaded the 
Igarapé-mirim, and on the rgth descended the Mojti. Senhor Machado 
and J by this time had become very good friends. At every interesting 
spot on the banks of the Moju, he manned the small boat and took me 
ashore. There are many large houses on this river, belonging to what 
were formerly large and flourishing plantations; since the Revolution 
of 1835-6, they had been suffered to go to decay. Two of the largest 
buildings were constructed by the Jesuits in the early part of the last 
century. We were told that there were formerly eleven large sugar- 
mills on the banks of the Moju, but now there are only three. At 
Burujtiba there is a large monastery in a state of decay; part of the 
edifice, however, was inhabited by a Brazilian family. The walls are 
four feet in thickness. The long dark corridors and gloomy cloisters 
struck me as very inappropriate in the midst of this young and radiant 
nature. They would be more in place on some barren moor in Northern 
Europe, than here in the midst of perpetual summer. The next turn 
in the river below Burujuba brought the city of Para into view. The 
wind was now against us, and we were obliged to tack about. Towards 
evening it began to blow stiffly, the vessel heeled over very much, and 
Senhor Machado, for the first time, trembled for the safety of his cargo ; 
the leaks burst out afresh, when we were yet two miles from the shore. 
He ordered another sail to be hoisted, in order to run more quickly 
into port, but soon afterwards an extra puff of wind came, and the old 
