194 Through the Brazilian Wilderness 



introducing them to stock-raising ; and the entire work of 

 guarding and patrolling the line is theirs. 



After six hours' march we came to the crossing of 

 the Rio Sacre at the beautiful waterfall appropriately 

 called the Salto Bello. This is the end of the automobile 

 road. Here there is a small Parecis village. The men 

 of the village work the ferry by which ever}rthing is taken 

 across the deep and rapid river. The ferry-boat is made 

 of planking placed on three dugout canoes, and runs on 

 a trolley. Before crossing we enjoyed a good swim in 

 the swift, clear, cool water. The Indian village, where 

 we camped, is placed on a jutting tongue of land round 

 which the river sweeps just before it leaps from the over- 

 hanging precipice. The falls themselves are very lovely. 

 Just above them is a wooded island, but the river joins 

 again before it races forward for the final plunge. There 

 is a sheer drop of forty or fifty yards, with a breadth 

 two or three times as great ; and the volume of water is 

 large. On the left or hither bank a cliff extends for sev- 

 eral hundred yards below the falls. Green vines have 

 flung themselves down over its face, and they are met by 

 other vines thrusting upward from the mass of vegeta- 

 tion at its foot, glistening in the perpetual mist from the 

 cataract, and clothing even the rock surfaces in vivid 

 green. The river, after throwing itself over the rock 

 wall, rushes off in long curves at the bottom of a thickly 

 wooded ravine, the white water churning among the black 

 bowlders. There is a perpetual rainbow at the foot of 

 the falls. The masses of green water that are hurling 

 themselves over the brink dissolve into shifting, foaming 

 columns of snowy lace. 



