ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
Dogs were numerous everywhere, and, like their 
masters, were indolent and sleepy. 
In the afternoon of that same day we travelled some 
13 kilometres more, on practically level ground inter¬ 
sected by a couple of streamlets. Marching through 
thinly wooded country, grassy here and there, one began 
to notice a variation in the scenery, which was gradually 
becoming more tropical in appearance. Palm trees, 
especially burity (Mauritia vinifera M.), in single speci¬ 
mens or in groups, could be seen in the great stretches of 
good grazing country which appeared on both sides of 
our course. 
We spent the night at the fazenda of Ritiro Alegre 
(elevation 2,450 feet), which words translated mean “ the 
merry rest ” — a most undeserved name, I can assure you, 
for neither merriment nor rest was to be obtained there. 
An evening in a Brazilian farm was, nevertheless, not 
devoid of interest or of comic scenes. 
These people evidently valued little the life of their 
children. As I was sitting on the doorstep, waiting for 
my dinner to be cooked, a little child of eight came gallop¬ 
ing down at a breakneck speed and riding bareback, a 
smaller child of one slung under his arm and squealing 
terribly. They both landed safely at the door. Then there 
appeared one of the picturesque carts drawn by twelve 
oxen, anxiously awaited by the family. Twenty snarling, 
snorting ill-natured pigs provided enough noise to impair 
seriously the drums of one’s ears; and when you added to 
this the monotonous bellowing of cows and oxen, the 
frantic neighing of horses and mules waiting to be fed, 
the crowing of cocks and the cackling of hens, the un¬ 
musical shrieks of a beautiful arara (or macaw, of gor¬ 
geous green, blue, and yellow plumage), and of two green 
parrots — to which total add, please, the piercing yells of 
the children — it was really enough to drive one insane. 
They were superior farmers, those of the “ Merry 
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