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SANTAREM 



of wood look like copses in the middle of green meadows ; 

 they are called by the natives * ilhas de mato or islands 

 of jungle ; the name being, no doubt, suggested by their 

 compactness of outline, neatly demarcated in insular form 

 from the smooth carpet of grass around them. They are 

 composed of a great variety of trees, loaded with suc- 

 culent parasites, and lashed together by woody climbers, 

 like the forest in other parts. A narrow belt of dense 

 wood, similar in character to these ilhas, and like them 

 sharply limited along its borders, runs everywhere parallel 

 and close to the river. In crossing the campo, the path 

 from the town ascends a little for a mile or two, passing 

 through this marginal strip of wood ; the grassy land 

 then slopes gradually to a broad valley, watered by 

 rivulets, whose banks are clothed with lofty and luxuriant 

 forest. Beyond this, a range of hills extends as far as 

 the eye can reach towards the yet untrodden interior. 

 Some of these hills are long ridges, wooded or bare ; others 

 are isolated conical peaks, rising abruptly from the valley. 

 The highest are probably not more than a thousand feet 

 above the level of the river. One remarkable hill, the 

 Serra de Muruaru, about fifteen miles from Santarem, 

 which terminates the prospect to the south, is of the 

 same truncated pyramidal form as the range of hills near 

 Almeyrim. Complete solitude reigns over the whole of 

 this stretch of beautiful country. The inhabitants of 

 Santarem know nothing of the interior, and seem to feel 

 little curiosity concerning it. A few tracks from the 

 town across the campo lead to some small clearings four 

 or five miles off, belonging to the poorer inhabitants of 

 the place ; but, excepting these, there are no roads, or 

 signs of the proximity of a civilized settlement. 



The sandy soil and scanty clothing of trees are pro- 

 bably the causes of the great dryness of the climate. 

 Tn some years no rain falls from August to February ; 

 whilst in other parts of the Amazons plains, both above 

 and below this middle part of the river, heavy showers 

 are frequent throughout the dry season. I have often 

 watched the rain-clouds in November and December, 

 when the shrubby vegetation is parched up by the glowing 

 sun of the preceding three months, rise as they approached 

 the hot air over the campos, or diverge from it to dis- 

 charge their contents on the low forest-clad islands of 

 the opposite shore. The trade-wind, however, blows with 



