I04 Through the BraziHan Wilderness 



of agriculture, and the latter's charming wife, and the 

 president of Matto Grosso, and several other ladies and 

 gentlemen, had come down the river to greet us, from 

 the city of Cuyaba, several hundred miles farther up- 

 stream. As usual, we were treated with whole-hearted 

 and generous hospitality. Some miles below the ranch- 

 house the party met us, on a stern-wheel steamboat and 

 a launch, both decked with many flags. The handsome 

 white ranch-house stood only a few rods back from the 

 river's brink, in a grassy opening dotted with those noble 

 trees, the royal palms. Other trees, buildings of all 

 kinds, flower-gardens, vegetable-gardens, fields, corrals, 

 and enclosures with high white walls stood near the 

 house. A detachment of soldiers or state police, with 

 a band, were in front of the house, and two flagpoles, 

 one with the Brazilian flag already hoisted. The Amer- 

 ican flag was run up on the other as I stepped ashore, 

 while the band played the national anthems of the two 

 countries. The house held much comfort ; and the com- 

 fort was all the more appreciated because even indoors 

 the thermometer stood at 97° F. In the late afternoon 

 heavy rain fell, and cooled the air. We were riding at 

 the time. Around the house the birds were tame: the 

 parrots and parakeets crowded and chattered in the tree 

 tops ; jacanas played in the wet ground just back of the 

 garden ; ibises and screamers called loudly in the swamps 

 a little distance off. 



Until we came actually in sight of this great ranch- 

 house we had been passing through a hot, fertile, pleasant 

 wilderness, where the few small palm-roofed houses, 

 each in its little patch of sugar-cane, corn, and mandioc, 



