60 THROUGH THE BRAZILIAN WILDERNESS 



ten gold, into the flaming sky; the far-off mountains loomed 

 purple across the marshes; belts of rich green, the river 

 banks stood out on either side against the rose-hues of the 

 rippling water; in front, as we forged steadily onward, 

 hung the tropic night, dim and vast. 



On December 15 we reached Corumba. For three or' 

 four miles before it is reached the west bank, on which 

 it stands, becomes high rocky ground, falling away into 

 cliffs. The country roundabout was evidently well peopled. 

 We saw gauchos, cattle-herders — the equivalent of our own 

 cowboys — riding along the bank. Women were washing 

 clothes, and their naked children bathing, on the shore; 

 we were told that caymans and piranhas rarely ventured 

 near a place where so much was going on, and that acci- 

 dents generally occurred in ponds or lonely stretches of the 

 river. Several steamers came out to meet us, and accom- 

 panied us for a dozen miles, with bands playing and the 

 passengers cheering, just as if we were nearing some town 

 on the Hudson. 



Corumba is on a steep hillside, with wide, roughly paved 

 streets, some of them lined with beautiful trees that bear 

 scarlet flowers, and with well-built houses, most of them 

 of one story, some of two or three stories. We were greeted 

 with a reception by the municipal council, and were given 

 a state dinner. The hotel, kept by an Italian, was as com- 

 fortable as possible — stone floors, high ceilings, big win- 

 dows and doors, a cool, open courtyard, and a shower-bath. 

 Of course Corumba is still a frontier town. The vehicles 

 are ox-carts and mule-carts; there are no carriages; and 

 oxen as well as mules are used for riding. The water comes 

 from a big central well; around it the water-carts gather, 



