EASTERN BRAZIL—-CHASE 385 
It is wonderfully lovely with trees and gardens, and everywhere hills 
for background. 
Four days after my arrival I ieft for Pernambuco in order to reach 
that region before the dry season was much advanced. (Ships from 
the United States do not stop at any Brazilian port north of Rio 
de Janeiro.) Pernambuco, or Recife as the city is commonly called, 
lies on flat ground built up by coral reefs and mangroves (both 
Rhizophora and Avicennia). Extensive mangrove marshes sur- 
round the city and Rio Capiberibe flows slowly through it. The city 
is cut into by tidal lagoons into which the mangroves are advancing. 
Recife is full of beautiful trees and flowering shrubs, royal palms, 
mangroves, caju (or cashew, Anacardiwm occidentale), breadfruit 
(Artocarpus ineisa) and its next of kin, Jackfruit (A. integrifolia), 
Carica papaya, and coconut palms being the most conspicuous. 
The surrounding region is densely populated. Wooded hills which 
at a distance showed no signs of being inhabited turned out to be 
full of huts and goats and children. In little clearings were patches 
of maize and beans, and a few banana trees and sometimes oranges. 
Vetiveria was planted about many of the huts. This is one of the 
oil grasses introduced from the East Indies. In the West Indies, 
the roots are used to scent clothing and to keep moths away, but 
here the grass is used to thatch huts. The caju is everywhere, a 
beautiful wide-spreading tree bearing multitudes of fragrant small 
maroon flowers, buzzing with bees, and fruit in all stages of develop- 
ment. These trees are a blessing to a blistering botanist. Whenever 
I sat down in their grateful shade to write up my notes and arrange 
the plants there was an excited squeaking in the tree above. I 
could see nothing through the dense foliage, and could not guess 
what sort of creature was worried by my invasion. I was told that 
it was the marmoset; then by patient and quiet watching I caught 
glimpses of little gray faces and bright eyes peering down with an 
expression of the most intense interest. 
The low land is even more thickly settled than the hills, mud huts 
occupying little peninsulas in the mangrove marshes, the bit of land 
swarming with naked children, and the mud with fiddler crabs. The 
margins of fresh-water streams, ditches, and ponds are occupied by 
washerwomen while their children swarm in the water like tadpoles. 
The Brazilian lavandera is a worker of miracles. She washes clothes 
in muddy water, spreads them along the dusty roadside, and then 
brings them home glistening white. 
Loads of capim da planta, Panicum barbinode (Para grass, we 
eall it) are continually being carried cityward on the backs of 
horses, less commonly in carts. This grass, which is the universal 
