FISHES 



329 



evening until midnight, after my own laborious day's 

 hunt ; working on the roof of my cabin by the light of 

 a lamp. 



The place where the cuberta was anchored formed a 

 little rocky haven, with a sandy beach sloping to the 

 forest, within which were the ruins of the Indian Maloca, 

 and a large weed-grown plantation. The port swarmed 

 with fishes, whose movements it was amusing to watch 

 in the deep, clear water. The most abundant were the 

 Piranhas. One species, which varied in length, according 

 to age, from two to six inches, but was recognizable by 

 a black spot at the root of the tail, was always the quickest 

 to seize any fragment of meat thrown into the water. 

 When nothing was being given to them, a few only were 

 seen scattered about, their heads all turned one way in 

 an attitude of expectation ; but as soon as any offal 

 fell from the canoe, the water was blackened with the 

 shoals that rushed instantaneously to the spot. Those 

 who did not succeed in securing a fragment, fought with 

 those who had been more successful, and many contrived 

 to steal the coveted morsels from their mouths. When 

 a bee or fly passed through the air near the water, they 

 all simultaneously darted towards it as if roused by an 

 electric shock. Sometimes a larger fish approached, and 

 then the host of Piranhas took the alarm and flashed out 

 of sight. The population of the water varied from day 

 to day. Once a small shoal of a handsome black-banded 

 fish, called by the natives Acara bandeira (Mesonauta 

 insignis, of Giinther), came gliding through at a slow 

 pace, forming a very pretty sight. At another time, 

 little troops of needle fish, eel-like animals, with exces- 

 sively long and slender toothed jaws, sailed through the 

 field, scattering before them the hosts of smaller fry ; and 

 in the rear of the needle-fishes a strangely-shaped kind 

 called Sarapo came wriggling along, one by one, with a 

 slow movement. We caught with hook and line, baited 

 with pieces of banana, several Curimata (Anodus Ama- 

 zonum), a most dehcious fish, which, next to the Tucunare 

 and the Pescada, is most esteemed by the natives. The 

 Curimata seemed to prefer the middle of the stream, 

 where the waters were agitated beneath the little cascade. 



The weather was now settled and dry, and the river 

 sank rapidly — six inches in twenty-four hours. In this 

 remote and solitary spot I can say that I heard for the 



