ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
For the first time, that day did I see two snakes, 
which were concealed in the deep grooves left by a cart 
wheel. One wound itself around the front leg of my 
mule, and for a moment I was anxious lest the animal had 
been bitten; but fortunately the snake, which had been 
trodden upon, did no damage. Only rarely did we see 
a bird anywhere, except in villages, where an occasional 
crow, with its dried-up neck and jerky motions, could be 
seen. How like the inhabitants those birds were! 
Twenty-seven kilometres farther, we reached Santo 
Antonio, a village situated in quite a heavenly spot, 2,800 
feet above the sea level, but in itself one of the most 
miserable villages I have ever seen. There were altogether 
some forty houses scattered about, eight of which were 
along the sides of the principal square — an abandoned 
field. The church had the appearance of a disused barn. 
A large wooden cross stood in front of it, upon which 
birds had built their nests. Four thin, ansemic-looking 
palms stood at different angles by the side of the cross. 
We had the misfortune to stay there for the night. By 
seven o’clock everybody had barricaded their houses and 
had retired to sleep. There was, of course, no such thing 
as a post-office or a telegraph in the place. The nearest 
place where a letter could be posted was some 72 kilo¬ 
metres away, on the high road between Goyaz and 
Catalao. Goats tied in pairs, with a log of wood between 
in order to keep them apart, seemed to have the run of 
the place, and were the only things there which appeared 
to have any life in them. 
But if the place was miserable, if the natives were 
repulsive and dull, there was plenty to be thankful for 
in admiration of the really glorious country around, and 
the superb sunsets to which we were treated every evening. 
Again that evening, when everybody in the place was 
slumbering, the sunset was more wonderful than words 
can describe. The usual radiations, which again reached 
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