1852.] SARSAPARILLA. 267 



of sugar, vinegar, oil, biscuits, and fresh bread and meat, we 

 proceeded on our journey, which we were anxious to complete 

 as soon as possible. 



On the 1 8th we passed Gurupa; and on the 19th entered 

 the narrow channels which form the communication with the 

 Para river, — bidding adieu to the turbid mighty flood of the 

 never-to-be-forgotten Amazon. 



We here met a vessel from Para, fifty days out, having made 

 a much shorter distance than we, descending the river, had 

 come in five. 



On the 22nd we reached Breves, a neat little village with 

 well-supplied shops, where I bought half a dozen of the pretty 

 painted basins, for the manufacture of which the place is cele- 

 brated ; we here also got some oranges, at six for a halfpenny. 



The next day we stayed at a sitio built upon piles, for the 

 whole country about here is covered at spring-tides. The 

 master of the canoe had a lot of sarsaparilla to put up properly 

 for the Para market, and stayed a day to do it. The sarsa- 

 parilla is the root of a prickly, climbing plant, allied to our 

 common black bryony ; the roots are dug by the Indians, and 

 tied up in bundles of various lengths and sizes ; but, as it is a 

 very light cargo, it is necessary to form it into packages of a 

 convenient and uniform size and length, for closer stowage ; — 

 these are cylindrical, generally of sixteen pounds each, and are 

 about three and a half feet long and five or six inches in 

 diameter, cut square and even at the ends, and wound round 

 closely from end to end with the long flexible roots of a species 

 of Pothos, which, growing on the tops of lofty trees, hang down 

 often a hundred feet or more, and, when the outer bark is 

 scraped off, are universally used for this purpose. It was to 

 do this binding we stayed here, the sarsa having been already 

 done up in proper packages; and while the crew were busy 

 about it, I occupied myself making some sketches of palms, 

 which were yet wanting to complete my collection. 



In two days more we reached the mouth of the Tocantins, 

 where there is a great bay, — so wide, that the further shore is 

 not visible. As there are some dangerous sandbanks here, 

 there is a pilot who takes canoes over, and we waited all day 

 in order to start with the morning's tide, which is considered 

 the most favourable for the passage. While here I got a few 

 shells, and amused myself by talking with the pilot, his wife, 



