240 THE LOWER AMAZONS. Chap. VL 



a room, Major Martinho da Fonseca Seixas, came over 

 from his estate on the opposite bank of the river. He 

 was a man of great importance in the district, and the 

 only one Avho had had enterprise sufficient to establish a 

 sugar-mill. He crossed over soon after sunrise in a small 

 boat, with four dark-skinned paddlers, who made the 

 morning air ring with a wild chorus which their master, 

 I was told, always made them sing, to beguile the way. 

 I found him a tall, wiry, and sharp-featured old gentle- 

 man, with a shrewd but good-humoured expression of 

 countenance — quite a typical specimen, in fact, of the 

 old school of Brazilian planters. He landed in dressing- 

 gown and slippers, and came up the beach chattering, 

 scolding, and gesticulating. Several friends joined him, 

 and we soon had the house full of company. After 

 taking coffee and a hot buttered roll, he dressed and 

 went to mass, whilst I slipped off to spend an hour or 

 two in the woods. When I came back I found the Major 

 with his friends seated in hammocks, two by two, slung in 

 the four corners of the room, and all engaged in a lively 

 discussion on political questions. They had a demijohn 

 of casha^a in their midst, and were helping themselves 

 freely, drinking out of little tea-cups. One of the com- 

 pany was a dark-skinned Cametaense, named Senhor 

 Calisto Pantoja, a very agreeable fellow, and as full of 

 talk as the Major. Like most of his townsmen, he was 

 a Santa Luzia, or Liberal, whilst the old gentleman was 

 a rabid Tory. Pantoja rather nettled the old man by 

 saying that the Cameta people had held their town 

 against the rebels in 1835, whilst the whites of Obydos 

 abandoned theirs to be pillaged by them. The Major 



