ISO TRAVELS ON THE RIO NEGRO. [March, 



Must millions suffer these dread miseries, 



While but a few enjoy the grateful fruits ? ' 



For are there not, confined in our dense towns, 



And scattered over our most fertile fields, 



Millions of men who live a lower life — 



Lower in physical and moral health — 



Than the Red Indian of these trackless wilds? 



Have we not thousands too who live a life 



More low, through eager longing after gold, — 



"Whose thoughts, from morn to night, from night to morn, 



Are — how to get more gold ? 



What know such men of intellectual joys? 



They've but one joy — the joy of getting gold. 



In nature's wondrous charms they've no delight, 



The one thing beautiful for them is — gold. 



Thoughts of the great of old which books contain, 

 The poet's and the historian's fervid page, 



Or all the wonders science brings to light, 



For them exist not. They've no time to spend 



In such amusements : 'Time,' say they, 'is gold.' 



And if they hear of some immortal deed, 



Some noble sacrifice of power or fortune 



To save a friend or spotless reputation, — 



A deed that moistens sympathetic eyes, 



And makes us proud we have such fellow-men, — 



They say, ' Who make such sacrifice are fools, 



For what is life without one's hard-earn'd gold ? ' 



Rather than live a man like one of these, 



I'd be an Indian here, and live content 



To fish, and hunt, and paddle my canoe, 



And see my children grow, like young wild fawns, 



In health of body and in peace of mind, 



Rich without wealth, and happy without gold ! " 



Javita, March, 1851. A. W. 



I had gone on here in my regular routine some time, when 

 one morning, on getting up, I found none of the Indians, and 

 no fire in the verandah. Thinking they had gone out early 

 to hunt or fish, as they sometimes did, I lit the fire and got 

 my breakfast, but still no sign of any of them. Looking about, 

 I found that their hammocks, knives, an earthen pan, and 

 a few other articles, were all gone, and that nothing was left 

 in the house but what was my own. I was now convinced 

 that they had run away in the night, and left me to get on 

 as I could. They had been rather uneasy for some days past, 

 asking me when I meant to go back. They did not like being 

 among people whose language they could not speak, and had 



