332 VOYAGE UP THE TAPAJOS 



mile from the eastern shore. It was a brilUant moonht 

 night, and the men worked cheerfully at the oars, when 

 the wind was slack ; the terral wafting from the forest 

 a pleasant perfume like that of mignonette. At mid- 

 night we made a fire and got a cup of coffee, and at three 

 o'clock in the morning reached the sitio of Ricardo's 

 father, an Indian named Andre, where we anchored and 

 slept. 



Sept. 22nd. — Old Andre with his squaw came aboard 

 this morning. They brought three Tracajas, a turtle, 

 and a basketful of Tracaja eggs, to exchange with me 

 for cotton cloth and casha9a. Ricardo, who had been for 

 some time very discontented, having now satisfied his 

 longing to see his parents cheerfully agreed to accompany 

 me to Santarem. The loss of a man at this juncture 

 would have been very annoying, with Captain Antonio 

 ill at Aveyros, and not a hand to be had anywhere in the 

 neighbourhood ; but if we had not called at Andre's 

 sitio, we should not have been able to have kept Ricardo 

 from running away at the first landing-place. He was 

 a lively, restless lad, and although impudent and trouble- 

 some at first, had made a very good servant ; his com- 

 panion, Alberto, was of quite a different disposition, being 

 extremely taciturn, and going through all his duties with 

 the quietest regularity. 



We left at II a.m., and progressed a little before the 

 wind began to blow from down river, when we were obliged 

 again to cast anchor. The terral began at six o'clock in 

 the evening, and we sailed with it past the long line of 

 rock-bound coast near Itapuama. At ten o'clock a furious 

 blast of wind came from a cleft between the hills, catching 

 us with the sails close-hauled, and throwing the canoe 

 nearly on its beam-ends, when we were about a mile from 

 the shore. Jose had the presence of mind to slacken the 

 sheet of the mainsail, whilst I leapt forward and lowered 

 the sprit of the foresail ; the two Indians standing stupi- 

 fied in the prow. It was what the canoe-men call a 

 trovoada secca or white squall. The river in a few minutes 

 became a sheet of foam ; the wind ceased in about half 

 an hour, but the terral was over for the night, so we pulled 

 towards the shore to find an anchoring place. 



We reached Tapaiuna by midnight on the 23rd, and 

 on the morning of the 24th arrived at the Retiro, where 

 we met a shrewd Santarem trader, whom I knew, Senhor 



