70 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH A]\IERICA 



About three liours from this settlement there 

 is a river called Pirarara; and here the soldiers 

 had left their canoes while they were making the 

 new one. From the Pirarara you get into the 

 river Maou, and then into the Tacaton; and just 

 where the Tacaton falls into the Rio Branco, there 

 stands the Portuguese frontier fort, called Fort 

 St. Joachim. From the time of embarking in the 

 river Pirarara, it takes you four days before you 

 reach this fort. 



There was nothing very remarkable in passing- 

 down these rivers. It is an open country, produc- 

 ing a coarse grass, and interspersed with clumps 

 of trees. The banks have some wood on them, but 

 it appears stunted and crooked, like that on the 

 bleak hills in England. 



The Tapir frequently plunged into the river; 

 he was by no means shy, and it was easy to get a 

 shot at him on land. The Kessi-kessi paroquets 

 were in great abundance; and the fine scarlet 

 Aras innumerable in the coucourite-trees at a dis- 

 tance from the river's bank. In the Tacaton was 

 seen the Troupiale. It was charming to hear the 

 sweet and plaintive notes of this pretty songster 

 of the wilds. The Portuguese call it the Nightin- 

 gale of Guiana. 



Towards the close of the fourth evening, the 

 canoe, which had been sent on with a letter, met us 

 with the commander's answer. During its ab- 

 sence, the nights had been cold and stormy, the 

 rain had fallen in torrents, the days cloudy, and 

 there was no sun to dry the wet hammocks. Ex- 

 posed thus, day and night, to the chilling blast and 

 pelting shower, strength of constitution at last 



