694 



THE NATURALIST ON THE RIVER AMAZONS. 



straight, tall hedge of forest. On the Santa- 

 rem side it is skirted by high wooded ridges. 

 A landscape of this description always pro- 

 duced in me an impression of sadness and 

 loneliness, which the giant virgin forests that 

 closely hedge in most of the by-waters of the 

 Amazons never created. The pastures are 

 destitute of flowers, and also of animal life, 

 with the exception of a few small plain- 

 colored birds and solitary Caracara eagles, 

 whining from the topmost branches of dead 

 trees on the forest borders. A few settlers 

 have built their palm-thatched and mud- 

 walled huts on the banks of the Mahica, and 

 occupy themselves chiefly in tending small 

 herds of cattle. They seemed to be all 

 wretchedly poor. The oxen, however, 

 though small, were sleek and tat, and the 

 district was most promising for agricultural 

 and pastoral employments. In the wet sea- 

 son the waters gradually rise and cover the 

 meadows, but there is plenty of room for the 

 removal of the cattle to higher ground. The 

 lazy and ignorant people seem totally unable 

 to profit by these advantages. The houses 

 have no gardens or plantations near them. 

 I was told it was useless to plant anything, 

 because the cattle devoured the young shoots. 

 In this country grazing and planting are very 

 rarely carried on together, for the people 

 seem to have no notion of inclosing patches 

 of ground for cultivation. They say it is too 

 much trouble to make inclosures. The con- 

 struction of a durable fence is certainly 8 

 difficult matter, for it is only two or three 

 kinds of tree which will serve the purpose 

 in being free from the attacks of insects, and 

 these are scattered far and wide through the 

 woods. 



Although the meadows were unproductive 

 ground to a naturalist, the woods on their 

 borders teemed with life ; the number and 

 variety of curious insects of all orders which 

 occurred here was quite wonderful. The 

 belt of forest was intersected by numerous 

 pathways leading from one settler's house to 

 another. The ground was moist, but the 

 trees were not so lofty or their crowns so 

 densely packed together as in other parts ; 

 the sun's light and heat therefore had freer 

 access to the soil, and the underwood was 

 much more diversified than in the virgin 

 forest. I never saw so many kinds of dwarf 

 palms together as here ; pretty miniature 

 species ; some not more than five feet high, 

 and bearing little clusters of round fruit not 

 larger than a good bunch of currants. A 

 few of the forest trees had the size and 

 strongly-branched figures of our oaks, and a 

 similar bark. One noble palm grew here in 

 great abundance, and gave a distinctive char- 

 acter to the district. This was the-CEnocar- 

 pus distichus, one of the kinds called Bacaba 

 by the natives. It grows to a height of f orty 

 to fifty feet. The crovrn is of a lustrous 

 dark-green color, and of a singularly flattened 

 or compressed shape ; the leaves being ar- 

 rangedjon each side in nearly the same plane. 

 "When I first saw this tree on the campus, 

 Where the east wind blows with great i^ice 



Eight and day for several months, I thought 

 the shape of the crown was due to the leave* - 

 being prevented from radiating equally by 

 the constant action of the breezes. But the 

 plane of growth is nat always in the direction 

 of the wind, and the crowu has the same 

 shape when the tree grows in the sheltered 

 woods. The fruit of this fine palm ripens 

 toward the end of the year, and is much es- 

 teemed by the natives^ who manufacture a 

 pleasant drink from it similar to the assai de- 

 scribed in a former chapter, by rubbing off 

 the coat of pulp front the nuts, and mixing 

 it with water. A bunch of fruit weighs 

 thirty or forty pounds. The beverage has a. 

 milky appearance, and an agreeable nutty 

 flavor. The tree is very difficult to climb, 

 on account of the smoothness of its stem ; 

 consequently the natives, whenever they 

 want a bunch c f fruit for a bowl of Bacaba, 

 cut down and thus destroy a tree which has 

 taken a score or two of years to grr-*, in 

 order to get at it. 



Iri the lower part of the Mahica w^ods, 

 toward the river, there is a bed of stiff write 

 clay, which supplies the people of Santarem 

 with material for the manufacture of coarse 

 pottery and cooking utensils ; all the kettles, 

 saucepans, mandioca ovens, coffee - pots, 

 washing-vessels, and so forth, of the poorer 

 classes throughout the country, are made of 

 this same plastic clay, which occurs at short 

 intervals over the whole surface of the Ama- 

 zons valley, from the neighborhood of Para 

 to within the Peruvian borders, and forms 

 part of the great Tabatinga marl deposit. 

 To enable the vessels to stand the fire the 

 bark of a certain tree, called Caraipe, is 

 burned and mixed with the clay, which gives 

 tenacity to the ware. Caraipe is an article of 

 commerce, being sold, packed in baskets, at 

 vhe shops in most of the towns. The shallow 

 pits, excavated in the marly soil at Mahica, 

 were very attractive to many kinds of mason 

 bees and wasps, who made use of the cla} r to 

 build their nests with. So that we have here 

 another example of the curious analogy that 

 exists between the arts of insects and these 

 of man. I spent many an hour watching 

 their proceedings : a short account of the 

 habits of some of these busy creatures may 

 be interesting. 



The most conspicuous was a large yellow 

 and black wasp, with a remarkably long and 

 narrow waist, the Pelopaeus fistulaiis. This 

 species collected the clay in little rsund pel- 

 lets, which it carried off, after rolling them 

 into a convenient shape, in its mouth. It 

 came straight to the pit with a loud hum, 

 and on alighting lost not a moment in be- 

 ginning to work ; finishing the kneading of 

 its little load in two or three minutes. The 

 nest of this wasp is shaped like a pouch, two 

 inches in length and is attached to a branch 

 or other projecting object. One of these 

 restless artificers once began to build on the 

 handle of a chest in the cabin of my canoe, 

 when we were stationary at a place for sev- 

 eral days. It was so intent on its work that 

 it allowed me to inspect the i ^ovements of 



