Vol. XXXVIII, No. 3 WASHINGTON 



September, 1920 



THE 



MAIflONAL 

 OG1A1PMIIG 

 AOAZHME 



COPYBJGHT.1920.BY NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY. WASHINGTON. D. C. 



RIO DE JANEIRO, IN THE LAND OF LURE 



By Harriet Chalmers Adams 



Author of "Picturesque Paramaribo," "Kaleidoscopic La Paz," "The First Transandine Railroad from 

 Buenos Aires to Valparaiso," "Cuzco, America's Ancient Mecca," "In French Lorraine," etc. 



ON a forested hill overlooking Rio 

 de Janeiro, not far from the eigh- 

 teenth century stone aqueduct 

 which brings cool mountain water from 

 Tijuca, lives an old man of Belgian blood 

 who has earned a living since boyhood by 

 catching butterflies. I found the old fel- 

 low in the dingy little workshop where he 

 sorts, stretches, and dries his treasures, 

 mounting them in pasteboard boxes lined 

 with pith, to which they can be securely 

 pinned. He has become feeble, and now- 

 adays the boys in the neighborhood do 

 most of the netting for him. Once he 

 reached too far for a big golden beauty, 

 fell off a cliff, and lay two days and 

 nights in the jungle before he was found. 

 "I am nearly eighty," he told me, "and 

 have lived on this hill since I was a boy. 

 Ever since I can remember I have caught 

 moths and butterflies. Before the war 

 most of my shipments were to Belgium; 

 but now I sell to curio dealers in town 

 and to tourists at the hotel on the hill. 



"We have many varieties of butterflies 

 in this part of the country, and this 

 morpho is the finest of them all." He 

 pointed to a gorgeous eight-inch, metallic 

 blue insect tipped with brown. "It flies 

 here mostly in March." 



RIO IS AS VARIHUFD AS A TROPIC 

 BUTTERFLY 



As multicolored and varied in beauty 

 as the butterflies of the tropics is the me- 

 tropolis of Brazil. When autumn leaves 



are falling in the "States," it is spring- 

 time in Rio de Janeiro. Then the tree- 

 tops on the hills are all abloom in pink 

 and purple, scarlet and gold. 



In splendor of hue and setting, this 

 great city of the South is unrivaled the 

 world over. Here granite peak and tur- 

 quoise sea, tropic forest and rainbow- 

 tinted town, meet and harmonize. 



This city of lure terraces up from a 

 glorious bay — the Bay of Guanabara, 

 mountain-encircled, isle-be jeweled. From 

 the shore, where parks and boulevards 

 are fast crowding out the old Rio of nar- 

 row streets, rise the forested hills on 

 whose slopes the lovelier portion of the 

 city lies. 



Place your hands on the table, fingers 

 spread, wrists upraised. Each finger rep- 

 resents one of Rio's hills; each space be- 

 tween, a canyon up which the city climbs. 



A CITY OF COLORFUL GARDENS 



Spain is the land of paintings, Portu- 

 gal of gardens. In Brazil many things 

 Portuguese have persisted besides the 

 mother tongue. Colorful indeed are the 

 gardens of Rio. 



There are old walled gardens sur- 

 rounding houses built in the days of the 

 empire. These houses usually stand at 

 the head of a canyon, or on the crest of 

 a hill. They are dignified one-story 

 buildings with large rooms, high ceilings, 

 and many windows. Their vivid color is 

 what the Brazilians call "Portuguese 



