1849.3 MOSQUITOES. 99 



paring the cacao, this pulp is not washed off, but the whole is 

 laid in the sun to dry. This requires some care, for if wetted 

 by rain or dew it moulds and is spoilt : on large cacao planta- 

 tions they have a drying-frame running on rollers, so that it 

 can be pushed under a shed every night or on the approach of 

 rain. The price of good cacao is about y. for an arroba 

 (thirty-two pounds). 



The fish are the pirarucii, which abound in all the lakes 

 here, and give plenty of employment to the Indians in the dry 

 season. The cattle estates are situated at the base of the 

 adjacent serras, where there is a scanty pasture, but in the dry 

 season the marshes which extend to the Amazon afford 

 abundance of herbage. The calabashes, or " cuyas," are made 

 in great quantities, and exported to Para" and all parts of the 

 Amazon. They are very neatly finished, scraped thin, and 

 either stained of a shining black or painted in brilliant colours 

 and gilt. The designs are fanciful, with sometimes figures of 

 birds and animals, and are filled up with much taste and 

 regularity. The Indian women make the colours themselves 

 from various vegetable juices or from the yellow earth, and 

 they are so permanent that the vessels may be constantly 

 wetted for a long time without injury. There is no other 

 place on the whole Amazon where painted calabashes are 

 made with such taste and brilliancy of colour. 



We brought a letter of introduction to Senhor Nunez, a 

 Frenchman from Cayenne, who has a small shop in the village ; 

 and he soon procured us an empty house, to which we had 

 our things carried. It consisted of two good parlours, several 

 small sleeping-rooms, a large verandah, and a closed yard 

 behind. We were warned that the mosquitoes were here very 

 annoying, and we soon found them so, for immediately after 

 sunset they poured in upon us in swarms, so that we found 

 them unbearable, and were obliged to rush into our sleeping- 

 rooms, which we had kept carefully closed. Here we had 

 some respite for a time, but they soon found their way in at 

 the cracks and keyholes, and made us very restless and 

 uncomfortable all the rest of the night. 



After a few days' residence we found them more tormenting 

 than ever, rendering it quite impossible for us to sit down to 

 read or write after sunset. The people here all use cow-dung 

 burnt at their doors to keep away the " praga," or plague, as 



