54 THROUGH THE BRAZILIAN WILDERNESS 



tent I did; but of course he and the others preferred Portu- 

 guese; and then Kermit was the interpreter. 



In the evening, soon after moonrise, we stopped for 

 wood at the little Brazilian town of Porto Martinho. There 

 are about twelve hundred inhabitants. Some of the build- 

 ings were of stone; a large private house with a castellated 

 tower was of stone; there were shops, and a post-office, 

 stores, a restaurant and billiard-hall, and warehouses for 

 matte, of which much is grown in the region roundabout. 

 Most of the houses were low, with overhanging, sloping 

 eaves; and there were gardens with high walls, inside of 

 which trees rose, many of them fragrant. We wandered 

 through the wide, dusty streets, and along the narrow 

 sidewalks. It was a hot, still evening; the smell of the 

 tropics was on the heavy December air. Through the open 

 doors and windows we caught dim glimpses of the half- 

 clad inmates of the poorer houses; women and young girls 

 sat outside their thresholds in the moonlight. All whom 

 we met were most friendly: the captain of the little Bra- 

 zilian garrison; the intendente, a local trader; another 

 trader and ranchman, a Uruguayan, who had just received 

 his newspaper containing my speech in Montevideo, and 

 who, as I gathered from what I understood of his rather 

 voluble Spanish, was much impressed by my views on de- 

 mocracy, honesty, liberty, and order (rather well-worn top- 

 ics); and a Catalan who spoke French, and who was ac- 

 companied by his pretty daughter, a dear little girl of 

 eight or ten, who said with much pride that she spoke 

 three languages — Brazilian, Spanish, and Catalan ! Her 

 father expressed strongly his desire for a church and for a 

 school in the little city. 



