i62 Through the Brazilian Wilderness 



field equipment, suggested by what he had already seen. 

 Some of us read books. Colonel Rondon, neat, trim, 

 alert, and soldierly, studied a standard work on applied 

 geographical astronomy. Father Zahm read a novel by 

 Fogazzaro. Kermit read Camoens and a couple of Bra- 

 zilian novels, "O Guarani" and "Innocencia." My own 

 reading varied from "Quentin Durward" and Gibbon to 

 the "Chanson de Roland." Miller took out his little pet 

 owl Moses, from the basket in which Moses dwelt, and 

 gave him food and water. Moses crooned and chuckled 

 gratefully when he was stroked and tickled. 



Late the first evening we moored to the bank by a 

 little fazenda of the poorer type. The houses were of 

 palm-leaves. Even the walls were made of the huge 

 fronds or leafy branches of the wawasa palm, stuck up- 

 right in the grotmd and the blades plaited together. Some 

 of us went ashore. Some stayed on the boats. There 

 were no mosquitoes, the weather was not oppressively 

 hot, and we slept well. By five o'clock next morning we 

 had each drunk a cup of delicious Brazilian coffee, and 

 the boats were under way. 



All day we steamed slowly up-stream. We passed two 

 or three fazendas. At one, where we halted to get milk, 

 the trees were overgrown with pretty little yellow orchids. 

 At dark we moored at a spot where there were no 

 branches to prevent our placing the boats directly along- 

 side the bank. There were hardly any mosquitoes. Most 

 of the party took their hammocks ashore, and the camp 

 was pitched amid singularly beautiful surroundings. The 

 trees were wawasa palms, some with the fronds cresting 

 very tall trunks, some with the fronds — seemingly longer 



