172 A YEAR IN BRAZIL. 



milho and putting it into ox-carts to be carried into the 

 town. I saw these niggers at breakfast round a large iron 

 pot containing " angu," which is a kind of porridge made 

 of maize-meal,* or fuba. 



I met John Baptist one morning early, on horseback, in 

 his plantations ; he was muffled up in a large shawl, as is 

 usual here during the cold penetrating mists of early morn, 

 though the days are generally now cloudless and grand. 



He has two farms in this valley, besides a fine bath 

 where he and his family come often to bathe. We came 

 across numbers of his cows and calves, and put up for 

 breakfast in one or other of his ranches. He has lately 

 imported some machinery from France for making butter. 

 The process was explained to me the other day by his 

 dumb son. We also tasted some of the butter his first 

 trial and it was delicious ; in fact, perfect.! 



The last time I was in the milho fields I wrote to 

 you of their luxuriant green stems and foliage that was in 

 January ; now all is brown and withered, and the corn is 

 fully ripe. In these plantations there is a vast undergrowth 

 of the cotton plant with its lovely yellow flowers, and the 

 castor-oil plant ripe and ready for picking. Of the latter I 

 have eaten a few beans, which are prettily striped black 

 and white, and are not bad to the taste. There are also 

 black and white beans now ripe, the plants resembling 

 French beans. Any amount of gourds of all shapes and 

 sizes are mingled with the other plants ; they, too, are ripe 



* By the kindness of our chief, a Scotchman, who gave me some Scotch 

 oatmeal, I frequently had porridge for breakfast. Oatmeal is unknown here. 

 I called it " angii de avea" (oats); and after the first lesson my old woman 

 prepared it to perfection. 



t Before I left Rio de Janeiro I heard that he was sending butter to that 

 city, where it found a ready market, and was all ordered before it arrived, so I 

 could not buy any of it. 



