76 



THE TOCANTINS 



compact wall of rich and varied forest, resting on the sur- 

 face of the stream. It seemed to form a finished border 

 to the water scene, where the dome-like, rounded shapes 

 of exogenous trees which constituted the mass formed 

 the ground-work, and the endless diversity of broad- 

 leaved Hehconiae and Palms — each kind differing in stem, 

 crown, and fronds — the rich embroidery. The morning 

 was calm and cloudless ; and the slanting beams of the 

 early sun, striking full on the front of the forest, lighted 

 up the whole most gloriously. The only sound of Hfe 

 which reached us was the call of the Serracura (Gallinula 

 Cayennensis), a kind of wild-fowl ; all else was so still 

 that the voices of boatmen could be plainly heard from 

 canoes passing a mile or two distant from us. The sun 

 soon gains great power on the water, but with it the sea- 

 breeze increases in strength, moderating the heat, which 

 would otherwise be almost insupportable. We reached 

 the end of the Goajara about mid-day, and then entered 

 the narrower channel of the Moju. Up this we travelled, 

 partly rowing and partly sailing between the same un- 

 broken walls of forest, until the morning of the 28th. 



August 2gth. — The Moju, a stream little inferior to 

 the Thames in size, is connected about 20 miles from its 

 mouth by means of a short artificial canal with a small 

 stream, the Igarape-mirim, which flows the opposite way 

 into the water-system of the Tocantins. Small vessels 

 like ours take this route in preference to the stormy 

 passage by way of the main river, although the distance 

 is considerably greater. We passed though the canal 

 yesterday, and to-day have been threading our way 

 through a labyrinth of narrow channels ; their banks all 

 clothed with the same magnificent forest ; but agreeably 

 varied by houses of planters and settlers. We passed 

 many quite large establishments, besides one pretty little 

 village, called Santa Anna. All these channels are washed 

 through by the tides, — the ebb, contrary to what takes 

 place in the short canal, setting towards the Tocantins. 

 The water is almost tepid (77° Fahr.), and the rank 

 vegetation all around seems reeking with moisture. The 

 country however, as we were told, is perfectly healthy. 

 Some of the houses are built on wooden piles driven into 

 the mud of the swamp. 



In the afternoon we reached the end of the last channel, 

 called the Anapii, which runs for several miles between 



