EASTERN BRAZIL—CHASE 395 
with white mist for background. I started again immediately after 
café to collect on the way down to Baréio Homem de Mello, wheze we 
were to take the noon train. 
Baggage regulations on Brazilian railroads are the despair of a 
foreigner. One’s clothing goes on the train with the passenger, but 
other baggage follows on a later train. My clothing was of no con- 
sequence, while my precious collections would spoil if I could not 
take them with me to dry. By some kind of magic Dr. Campos 
Porto got all my collections on our train, and I heartily wished 
that I had more Portuguese than muito obrigada and agradecida 
at my command to thank him for the wonderful trip and for this 
crowning favor. 
A few days later there was a terrific storm in Rio de Janeiro, 
retaining walls giving way in places, with tons of rock and earth and 
trees across the street-car tracks. The next morning was misty, with 
clouds pouring over the shoulder of Corcovado, but it was not rain- 
ing, so I started about 6 o’clock for an all-day tramp from Alta Boa 
Vista (about 450 meters altitude), on the slope of Tijuca, to Silvestre, 
on the slope of Corcovado. It was drizzling by the time I reached 
Alta Boa Vista, but I went on, hoping it would clear. It rained 
gently or in sudden torrents all day, and yet was one of the most 
joyous day I had in Brazil. There was a dense mat of a little 
Paspalum, apparently new, of which I had found but two specimens 
on Corcovado, and a colony of Panicum latissimum, 6 feet tall, with 
great clasping blades, 6 inches broad and 12 to 15 inches long. It 
grew on an almost vertical slope, in a jungle of trees and shrubs and 
tangled vines. In the United States National Herbarium there were 
fragments only, nothing to give a hint of the beauty of the plant. 
The rain continued the next day, so I took my collection to the 
Jardim Botanico to be dried in the drying oven, and then had to suc- 
cumb to an attack of grippe. I convalesced in the home of kind 
missionaries on the island of Paqueta, toward id north end of the 
bay, botanizing with the children. 
There were a few more trips in the vicinity of Rio de Janeiro, to 
Jacarepagua, in low land toward the south coast to the west; in the 
sands at Ipanema by the seacoast; a day along the Camino dos 
Macacos, which runs from the Jardim Botanico to Alta Boa Vista; 
about Merity, in the low land to the west of the bay; and a glorious 
day climbing the Pico de Tijuca. On the last three trips I enjoyed 
the companionship of Mr. Cuyler, naturalist on the Blossom, of 
Cleveland, a little three-masted sailing vessel exploring particularly 
the bird islands on both sides of the southern Atlantic. The Blossom 
was undergoing repairs in the harbor of Rio de Janeiro. On a 
steep wooded slope above Camino dos Macacos I found the eagerly 
