248 VOYAGE UP THE TAPAJOS. Cuap. IX. 
The place where the cuberta was anchored formed a little rocky 
haven, with a sandy beach sloping to the forest, within which were the 
ruins of the Indian Maloca, and a large weed-grown plantation. The 
port swarmed with fishes, whose movements it was amusing to watch in 
the deep, clear water. ‘The most abundant were the Pirdnhas. One 
species, which varied in length, according to age, from two to six inches, 
but was recognisable by a black spot at the root of the tail, was always 
the quickest to seize any fragment of meat thrown into the water. When 
nothing was being given to them, a few only were seen scattered about, 
their heads all turned one way in an attitude of expectation; but as 
soon as any offal fell from the canoe, the water was blackened with the 
shoals that rushed instantaneously to the spot. Those who did not 
succeed in securing a fragment, fought with those who had been more 
successful, and many contrived to steal the coveted morsels from their 
mouths. When a bee or fly passed through the air near the water, they 

Acara (Mesonauta insignis). 
all simultaneously darted towards it as if roused by an electric shock. 
Sometimes a larger fish approached, and then the host of Piranhas took 
the alarm and flashed out of sight. The population of the water varied 
from day today. Once a small shoal of a handsome black-banded fish, 
called by the natives Acard bandeira (Mesonauta insignis, of Giinther), 
came gliding through at a slow pace, forming a very pretty sight. At 
another time, little troops of needle fish, eel-like animals with excessively 
long and slender toothed jaws, sailed through the field, scattering 
before them the host of smaller fry ; and in the rear of the needle-fishes 
a strangely-shaped kind called Sarapé came wriggling along, one by 
one, with a slow movement. We caught with hook and line, baited 
with pieces of banana, several Curimata (Anodus Amazonum), a most 
delicious fish, which, next to the Tucunaré and the Pescada, is most 
esteemed by the natives. The Curimata seemed to prefer the middle 
of the stream, where the waters were agitated beneath the little cascade. 
The weather was now settled and dry, and the river sank rapidly—six 
inches in twenty-four hours. In this remote and solitary spot I can say 
