122 A YEAR IN BRAZIL. 



to return in a drowned-rat condition to the tents by eleven. 

 There have now (December 8) been three days of almost 

 ceaseless rain. 



December 12. Last night we had another terrific storm. 

 Many of the cords tying down the tent gave way, pulling 

 out the pegs, the poles rocked backwards and forwards, the 

 rain beat in through the door-flaps on to our beds and 

 poured along the floor. We stood with our arms pressed 

 against the top of the tent, so as to lessen the collapse if 

 the poles should break. When the little hurricane had 

 passed, in about a quarter of an hour, I went to look up 

 the men in their tent, made two of them cut new pegs 

 and, by the fitful yet dazzling lightning, refix our cords, 

 while others attended to their own tent. They are so lazy 

 that they would allow the tent to fall about their ears 

 before they would think of repairing any broken ropes or 

 uprooted pegs. 



When the rain ceases, in the daytime it is very steamy 

 and oppressive, especially near the marshes along the banks 

 of the river. The steamy damp is most enervating, and 

 I feel the effect of it to a certain extent ; for it has a ten- 

 dency to make one wish to do no more than is absolutely 

 necessary. If this went on long, and I were to continue 

 in camp, I have little doubt that my home correspondence 

 would dwindle down to very small proportions. It is one 

 thing to be, in the tropics, indoors all day in a cool, dark, 

 well-ventilated house, and quite another thing to get up 

 early and work continuously out of doors under a sun 

 which gradually creeps up in the sky till it is invisible, 

 being at the zenith. One is surrounded by a thousand 

 insects, mosquitos and wasps, and one longs for a drop of 

 water ; but the rivers are the colour that the Red Sea ought 

 to be, and withal lukewarm. I do not so much mind 



