Cuap. IX. DESCENT OF THE TAPAJOS. 258 
running away at the first landing-place. He was a lively, restless lad, 
and although impudent and troublesome at first, had made a very good 
servant ; his companion, Alberto, was of quite a different disposition, 
being extremely taciturn, and going through all his duties with the 
quietest regularity. 
We left at 11 a.m., and progressed a little before the wind began to 
blow from down river, when we were obliged again to cast anchor. The 
terral began at six o’clock in the evening, and we sailed with it past the 
long line of rock-bound coast near Itapudma. At ten o’clock a furious 
blast of wind came from a cleft between the hills, catching us with the 
sails close-hauled, and throwing the canoe nearly on its beam-ends, when 
we were about a mile from the shore. José had the presence of mind 
to slacken the sheet of the mainsail, whilst I leapt forward and lowered 
the sprit of the foresail ; the two Indians standing stupefied in the prow. 
It was what the canoemen call a ¢vovoada secca, or white squall. The 
river in a few minutes became a sheet of foam; the wind ceased in 
about half an hour, but the terral was over for the night, so we pulled 
towards the shore to find an anchoring place. 
We reached Tapaiuna by midnight on the 23rd, and on the morning 
of the 24th arrived at the Retiro, where we met a shrewd Santarem 
trader, whom I knew, Senhor Chico Honorio, who had a larger and 
much better provided canoe than our own. ‘The wind was strong from 
below all day, so we remained at this place in his company. He had 
his wife with him, and a number of Indians, male and female. We 
slung our hammocks under the trees, and breakfasted and dined 
together, our cloth being spread on the sandy beach in the shade; 
after killing a large quantity of fish with #7706, of which we had obtained 
a supply at Itapudma. At night we were again under weigh with the 
land breeze. The water was shoaly to a great distance off the coast, 
and our canoe having the lighter draught went ahead, our leadsman 
crying out the soundings to our companion: the depth was only one 
fathom, half a mile from the coast. We spent the next day (25th) at 
the mouth of a creek called Pini, which is exactly opposite the village 
of Boim, and on the following night advanced about twelve miles. 
Every point of land had a long spit of sand stretching one or two miles 
towards the middle of the river, which it was necessary to double by a 
wide circuit. The terral failed us at midnight, when we were near an 
espera, called Marai, the mouth of a shallow creek. 
September 26th.—I did not like the prospect of spending the whole 
dreary day at Marai, where it was impossible to ramble ashore, the 
forest being utterly impervious, and the land still partly under water. 
Besides, we had used up our last stick of firewood to boil our coffee at 
sunrise, and could not get a fresh supply at this place. So there being 
a dead calm on the river in the morning, I gave orders at ten o’clock to 
move out of the harbour, and try with the oars to reach Paquiattiba, 
which was only five miles distant. We had doubled the shoaly point 
which stretches from the mouth of the creek, and were making way 
merrily across the bay, at the head of which was the port of the little 
settlement, when we beheld, to our dismay, a few miles down the river, 
the signs of the violent day breeze coming down upon us—a long, 
