Across Nhambiquara Land 243 



pure Indian blood, and was dressed in the ordinary cos- 

 tume of the Cabocio — hat, shirt, trousers, and no shoes 

 or stockings. Within the last year he had killed three 

 jaguars, which had been living on the mules ; as long as 

 they could get mules they did not at this station molest 

 the cattle. 



It was with this uncle's father, Colonel Rondon's own 

 grandfather, that Colonel Rondon as an orphan spent the 

 first seven years of his life. His father died before he 

 was born, and his mother when he was only a year old. 

 He lived on his grandfather's cattle-ranch, some fifty 

 miles from Cuyaba. Then he went to live in Cuyaba 

 with a kinsman on his father's side, from whom he took 

 the name of Rondon; his own father's name was Da 

 Silva. He studied in the Cuyaba Government School, 

 and at sixteen was inscribed as one of the instructors. 

 Then he went to Rio, .served for a year in the army as 

 an enlisted man in the ranks, and succeeded finally in 

 getting into the military school. After five years as 

 pupil he served three years as professor of mathematics 

 in this school; and then, as a lieutenant of engineers in 

 the Brazilian army, he came back to his home in Matto 

 Grosso and began his life-work of exploring the wilder- 

 ness. 



Next day we journeyed to the telegraph station at 

 Bonofacio, through alternate spells of glaring sunshine 

 and heavy rain. On the way we stopped at an aldea — 

 village — of Nhambiquaras. We first met a couple of men 

 going to hunt, with bows and arrows longer than them- 

 selves. A rather comely young woman, carrying on her 

 back a wickerwork basket, or creel, supported by a fore- 



