SCENEKY OB^ THE LAGUNES. 43 



growing along the margin of the stream. Above the shrubbery 

 of the littoral forest numberless palms tower, like stately 

 columns, to the height of a hundred feet ; while others of a 

 lower stature are remarkable for the size of their trunks, on 

 which the foot-stalks of the fallen leaves serve as supports for 

 ferns and other parasites. 



It stands to reason that in a length of more than 3,000 miles 

 the species of plants must frequently change ; yet the low banks 

 of the Amazons, and of its vassals, as soon as they have emerged 

 from the mountains where they rise, have everywhere a similar 

 character. On sailing down the river for hundreds of miles, 

 the eye may at length grow weary of the uniformity of a land- 

 scape, which remains constantly the same ; but the interest in- 

 creases as the mind becomes more and more impressed by the 

 grandeur of its dimensions. A broad stream, now dividing 

 into numerous arms, and now swelling into a lake ; a dark 

 forest-border, which on so flat a ground seems at a distance like 

 an artificial but colossal hedge : these are the only elements of 

 which the landscape is composed. No busy towns rise upon the 

 banks, and it is only at vast intervals that one finds a few 

 wretched huts, which are soon again lost in the forest ; but a 

 sky so brilliant spreads over the whole scene, and the rays of the 

 sun beam upon a nature of such luxuriance, that the traveller, 

 far from feeling the voyage monotonous, proceeds on his journey 

 with increasing interest, and every morn salutes with new joy 

 the majestic wilderness. 



The boat floats along, borne by the current of the river, 

 which, in the dry season, generally flows at the rate of four 

 English miles in an hour. Even during the night the journey 

 is usually continued, when no special danger claims a greater 

 caution, and a landing only takes place when the desire becomes 

 general to enjoy a perfectly quiet night's rest, or when a broad 

 sand bank happens to be invitingly near. Grenerally an island 

 is selected, as affording both greater security from beasts of 

 prey and a clearer ground. The Indians are not obliged to 

 fetch fire-wood from a distance, for trees, drifted by the floods, 

 are constantly found at the upper end of the river-islands, 

 where they remain until the next inundation once more raises 

 them ; and thus many of them are ultimately drifted by the 

 ocean currents to distant lands. The Indians sometimes set 



