316 TRIP UP AN IGAEAPE. 



ally a porpoise emerges from the water, showing himself for a 

 moment, and then disappearing. Sometimes a herd of 

 capybaras, resting on the water's edge, are startled at our 

 approach. 



There sits, on the branch of an imbauba, rolled up in its 

 peculiar attitude, a sloth, the very picture of indolence, with 

 its head sunk between its arms. The banks, covered in many 

 places with the beautiful capim-grass, afford excellent pastur- 

 age for cattle. 



Now we turn into an inner stream, or igarape, often having 

 to make our way with difficulty amid islands of capim-gxass. 

 Now we pass through a magnificent forest of the beautifid 

 fan-palm — the miriti — overshadowing many smaller trees 

 and innumerable shrubs, bearing light conspicuous flowers. 

 Among them are numerous Leguminosse — one of the most 

 striking, the fava, having a colossal pod. 



The whole mass of vegetation is interwoven with innu- 

 merable creepers, amid which the flowers of the bignonia, 

 with their open trumpet-shaped corollas, are conspicuous. 

 The capim is bright with the blossoms of the mallow grow- 

 ing in its midst, in some places edged with the broad-leaved 

 aninga — a large aquatic arum. Through these forests, where 

 animal life is no less rich and varied than the vegetation, 

 our canoe glides silently for hours. 



The sedgy grasses on either side are full of water birds. 

 One of the most common is a small chestnut-brown wading 

 bird — the jacana — whose toes are immensely long in propor- 

 tion to its size, enabling it to run over the surface of the 

 aquatic vegetation as if it were solid ground. It is their breed- 

 ing season — January. At every turn of the boat we start 

 them up — usually in pairs. Their flat, open nests generally 



