300 VOYAGE UP THE TAP A J OS 



galleries, and a little sandy dome occurs here and there, 

 where the insects bring their young to receive warmth 

 near the surface. The houses are overrun with them ; 

 they dispute every fragment of food with the inhabitants, 

 and destroy clothing for the sake of the starch. All 

 eatables are obliged to be suspended in baskets from the 

 rafters, and the cords well soaked with copaiiba balsam, 

 which is the only means known of preventing them from 

 climbing. They seem to attack persons out of sheer 

 malice : if we stood for a few moments in the street, even 

 at a distance from their nests, we were sure to be overrun 

 and severely punished, for the moment an ant touched 

 the flesh, he secured himself with his jaws, doubled in his 

 tail, and stung with all his might. When we were seated 

 on chairs in the evenings in front of the house to enjoy 

 a chat with our neighbours, we had stools to support our 

 feet, the legs of which as well as those of the chairs, were 

 well anointed with the balsam. The cords of hammocks 

 are obliged to be smeared in the same way to prevent the 

 ants from paying sleepers a visit. 



The inhabitants declare that the fire-ant was unknown 

 on the Tapajos, before the disorders of 1835-6, and be- 

 lieve that the hosts sprang up from the blood of the 

 slaughtered Cabanas. They have, doubtless, increased 

 since that time, but the cause lies in the depopulation 

 of the villages and the rank growth of weeds in the pre- 

 viously cleared, well-kept spaces. I have already de- 

 scribed the line of sediment formed on the sandy shores 

 lower down the river by the dead bodies of the winged 

 individuals of this species. The exodus from their nests 

 of the males and females takes place at the end of the 

 rainy season (June), when the swarms are blown into the 

 river by squalls of wind, and subsequently cast ashore 

 by the waves. I was told that this wholesale destruction 

 of ant-life takes place annually, and that the same com- 

 pact heap of dead bodies which I saw only in part, ex- 

 tends along the banks of the river for twelve or fifteen 

 miles. 



The forest behind Aveyros yielded me little except 

 insects, but in these it was very rich. It is not too dense, 

 and broad sunny paths skirted by luxuriant beds of 

 Lycopodiums, which form attractive sporting places for 

 insects, extend from the village to a swampy hollow or 

 ygapo, which hes about a mile inland. Of butterflies 



