THE NATURxYLlST ON THE RIVER AMAZONS. 



6ft 



sleeping, ashore, served for a pillow. The 

 jirched covering over the hold in the forepart 

 of the vessel contained, besides a sleeping 

 place for the crew, my heavy chests, stock of 

 salt provisions and groceries, and an assort- 

 ment of goods wherewith to pay m/ way 

 among the half-civilized or savage r'^abit- 

 ants of i he interior. The goods consisted 

 of easchaca powder and shot, a few pieces 

 of coarse checked-cotton cloth and prints, 

 fish-hooks, axes, large knives, harpoons, 

 arrow heads, looking- glasses, beads, and other 

 small wares. Jose and myself were busy 

 for many days arranging these matters. We 

 had to salt the meat and grind a supply >f 

 coffee ourselves. Cooking utensils, crock- 

 ery, water jars, a set of useful carpenter's 

 tools, and many other things had to be pro- 

 vided. We put, all the groceries and other 

 perishable articles in tin canisters and boxes, 

 having found that this was the only way of 

 preserving them from d mp and insects in 

 this climate. When all was done, our canoe 

 looked like a little floating workshop. 



I could get little information about the 

 river, except vague accounts of the difficulty 

 of the navigation and the f ami to or hunger 

 which reigned on its bank*. As I have be- 

 fore mentioned, it is about a thousand mil^s 

 in length, and flows from south to north ; in 

 magnitude it stands the sixth among the 

 tributaries of the Amazon*. It is navigable, 

 however, by sailing vessels only for about 

 160 miles above Santarem. The hiring of 

 men to navigate the vessel was our greatest 

 trouble. Jose was to be my helmsman, and 

 we thought three other hands would be the 

 fewest with which we could venture. But 

 all our endeavors to procure these were 

 fiuitless. Santarem is woise provided with 

 Indian canoernen than any other town on 

 the river. I found on applying to the 

 tradesmen to whom I had brought letters of 

 introduction, add to the Brazilian authori- 

 \ ties, that almost any favor would be sooner 

 granted than the loan of hands. A stranger, 

 h'owever, is obliged to depend on them ; for 

 it is impossible t > fin 1 an Indian or half- 

 caste wlum some one or other of the head- 

 men do not clam as owing him money or 

 labor. I was afraid at one time I should 

 have been forced to abandon 1113' project on 

 this account. At length, after many rebuffs 

 and disappointments, Jose contrived to en- 

 gage one mau, a mulattto, named Pinto, a 

 native of the mining country of Interior 

 Brazil, who knew the river well ; and willi 

 these two I resolved to start, hoping to meet 

 with others at the first village on the road. 



We left Santarem on the 8th of June. 

 The waters were then at their highest point, 

 and my canoe had been anchored close to 

 the back door of our house. The morning 

 was cool, and a brisk wind blew, with which 

 we sped rapidly past the whitewashed 

 houses and thatched Indian huts of the sub- 

 urbs. The charming little bay of Mapir6 

 was soon left behind ; we then doubled Point 

 Maria Josepha, a headland formed of high 

 cliffs of Tabatinya clav, cupped with 



This forms the limit of the river view from 

 Santarem, an'! here we had our last glimpse, 

 at a distance of seven or eight, miles, of the 

 city, a bright line of tiny white buildings 

 resting on the dark water. A stretch of wild, 

 rocky, uninhabited coast was before us, and 

 we were fairly within the Tapajos. 



Our course lay due west for about twenty 

 miles. The wind increased as we neare I 

 Point Cuiuru, where the river bends from 

 its northern course. A vast expanse of 

 water here stretches to the west and south, 

 and the waves with a strong breeze run very 

 high. As we were doubling the point the 

 cable which held our montaria in tow astern 

 parted, and in endeavoring to recover tho 

 boat, without which we knew it would bo 

 difficult to get ashore on many parts of the 

 coast, we were very near capsizing. W"G 

 tried to tack down the river, a vain attempt 

 with a strong breeze and no current. Our 

 ropes snapped, the sails flew to rags, and 

 the vessel, which we now found was defi- 

 cient in ballast, heeled over frightfully. Con- 

 trary to Jose's advice, I ran the cuberta into 

 a little bay. thinking to cast anchor there *in:I 

 wait for the boat coming up with the wind ; 

 but the anchor dragged on the smooth sandv 

 bottom, and the vessel went broadside on t 

 the rocky beach. With a little dexterous 

 management, but not until after we had sus 

 taine^ s^ r e severe bumps, we managed to 

 get out of this difficulty, clearing the rocky 

 point at a close shave with our jib-sail. 

 Soon after we drifted into the smooth watci- 

 of a sheltered bay, which leads to the charm- 

 ingly situated village of Altar do Chao ; and 

 we were obliged to give up our attempt t j 

 recover the montaria. 



The little settlement, Altar do Chao (Altar 

 of the ground, or Earth altar), owes its singu- 

 lar name to the existence, at the entrance 

 to the harbor, of one of those strange flat- 

 topped hills which are so common in this 

 part of the Amuzons country, shaped likj 

 the high altar in Roman Catholic churches. 

 It is an isolated one, and much lower r.i 

 height than the similarly truncated hills an I 

 ridges near Almeyrim. being elevated prob- 

 ably not more than 300 teet above the lev I 

 of the river. It is bare of trees, but covert I 

 in places with a species of fern. At the hen I 

 of the bay is an inner harbor, which com- 

 municates 1)3' a channel with a series of lak< * 

 tying in the valleys between hills, an I 

 stretching far *nto the interior of the land. 

 The village is peopled almost entirely by 

 eeini-civiltzed Indians, to the number of sixt , r 

 or seventy families ; and the scattered houst s 

 are arranged in broad streets on a strip ot* 

 greenswarn, at the foot of a high, gloriously 

 wooded ridge. 



I was so much pleased with the situation of 

 this settlement, and the number of ra> 

 brrds and insects which tenanted the forest, 

 that I revisited it in the following year, an. I 

 spent four months making collections. Tl; j 

 houses in the village swarmed with vermin : 

 bats in the thatch ; fire-ants (formiga de fog >l 

 UjUUf the floors ; cockroaches and fipidtid 



