CHAPTER X. 
THE UPPER AMAZONS—VOYAGE TO EGA. 
Departure from Barra—First day and night on the Upper Amazons—Desolate 
appearance of river in the flood season—Cucama Indians—Mental condition of 
Indians—Squalls—Manatee—Forest—Floating pumice-stones from the Andes— 
Falling banks—Ega and its inhabitants—Daily life of a Naturalist at Ega— 
Customs, trade, etc.—The four seasons of the Upper Amazons. : 
I must now take the reader from the picturesque, hilly country of the 
Tapajos, and its dark, streamless waters, to the boundless wooded 
plains and yellow turbid current of the Upper Amazons or Solimoens 
I will resume the narrative of my first voyage up the river, which was 
interrupted at the Barra of the Rio Negro, in the seventh chapter, to 
make way for the description of Santarem and its neighbourhood. 
I embarked at Barra on the 26th of March, 1850, three years before 
steamers were introduced on the upper river, in a cuberta which was 
returning to Ega, the first and only town of any importance in the vast 
solitudes of the Solimoens, from Santarem, whither it had been sent. 
with a cargo of turtle oil in earthenware jars. The owner, an old 
white-haired Portuguese trader of Ega, named Daniel Cardozo, was then 
at Barra, attending the assizes as juryman, a public duty performed 
without remuneration, which took him six weeks away from his business. 
He was about to leave Barra himself, ina small boat, and recommended 
me to send forward my heavy baggage in the cuberta and make the 
journey with him. He would reach Ega, 370 miles distant from Barra, 
in twelve or fourteen days ; whilst the large vessel would be thirty or 
forty days on the road. I preferred, however, to go in company with 
my luggage, looking forward to the many opportunities I should have 
of landing and making collections on the banks of the river. 
I shipped the collections made between Para and the Rio Negro in 
a large cutter which was about descending to the capital, and after a 
heavy day’s work got all my chests aboard the Ega canoe by eight 
o’clock at night. The Indians were then all embarked, one of them 
being brought dead drunk by his companions, and laid to sober himself 
all night on the wet boards of the tombadilha. The cabo, a spirited 
young white, named Estulano Alves Carneiro, who has since risen to be 
a distinguished citizen of the new province of the Upper Amazons, soon 
after gave orders to get up the anchor. The men took to the oars, and 
in a few hours we crossed the broad mouth of the Rio Negro; the night 
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