178 TRAVELS ON THE RIO NEGRO. [March, 



The young girls carry water on their heads 

 In well-formed pitchers, just like Cambrian maids ; 

 And all each morn and eve wash in the' stream, 

 And sport like mermaids in the sparkling wave. 



" The village is laid out with taste and skill : 

 In the midst a spacious square, where stands the church, 

 And narrow streets diverging all around. 

 Between the houses, filling up each space, 

 The broad, green-leaved, luxuriant plantain grows, 

 Bearing huge bunches of most wholesome fruit; 

 The orange too is there, and grateful lime ; 

 The Inga pendent hangs its yard-long pods 

 (Whose flowers attract the fairy humming-birds); 

 The guava, and the juicy, sweet cashew, 

 And a most graceful palm, which bears a fruit 

 In bright red clusters, much esteem'd for food ; 

 And there are many more which Indians 

 Esteem, and which have only Indian names. 

 Th chouses are of posts fill'd up with mud, 

 Smooth'd, and wash'd over with a pure white clay ; 

 A palm-tree's spreading leaves supply a thatch 

 Impervious to the winter's storms and rain. 

 No nail secures the beams or rafters, all 

 Is from the forest, whose lithe, pendent cords 

 Bind them into a firm enduring mass. 

 From the tough fibre of a fan-palm's leaf 

 They twist a cord to make their hammock-bed, 

 Their bow-string, line, and net for catching fish. 

 Their food is simple — fish and cassava-bread, 

 With various fruits, and sometimes forest game, 

 All season'd with hot, pungent, fiery peppeis. 

 Sauces and seasonings too, and drinks they have. 

 Made from the mandiocca's poisonous juice; 

 And but one foreign luxury, which is salt. 

 Salt here is money : daily they bring to me 

 Cassava cakes, or fish, or ripe bananas, 

 Or birds or insects, fowls or turtles' eggs, 

 And still they ask for salt. Two teacups-full 

 Buy a large basket of cassava cakes, 

 A great bunch of bananas, or a fowl. 



" One day they made a festa, and, just like 

 Our villagers at home, they drank much beer, 

 (Beer made from roasted mandiocca cakes,) 

 Call'd here "shirac," by others "caxiri," 

 But just like beer in flavour and effect ; 

 And then they talked much, shouted and sang, 

 And men and maids all danced in a ring 

 With much delight, like children at their play. 



