ACROSS UNKNOWN SOUTH AMERICA 
valley below, and the rich brown and yellow and red tints 
of the near foreground, made one of the most exquisitely 
beautiful sights I have ever witnessed. The nearest 
approach to it in my experience was, perhaps, the eastern 
escarpment of the Abyssinian plateau in Africa, where 
a similar panorama on a much smaller scale could be 
seen, but not the same geological formation. 
No sooner had I recovered from the strangeness and 
marvellous beauty of Nature’s work around me, than I 
felt a great shock at seeing what men had done in that 
region. We were at this point on the high road between 
Sao Paulo, Uberaba, and Goyaz, the capital. As my 
animals stumbled down the steep escarpment, traces could 
be seen of what must have been formerly a beautiful, 
paved road, well-drained on both sides with channels, 
and held up in terraces by stone works where the gradient 
was steepest. Here and there bits still remained, demon¬ 
strating how well the road had been made. But, uncared 
for and abandoned, most of it had been washed away by 
the heavy rains, which had turned that road into a foaming 
torrent in wet weather. Near habitations, the well-cut 
slabs with which the road was paved had proved con¬ 
venient to the natives for building purposes. During the 
time of the Emperor Pedro II., that was a magnificent 
road, I was told, kept in excellent repair. 
Goyaz City lay before us, down, down below, in the 
hollow of the huge depression. Its single row of low, 
whitewashed houses of humble architectural pretensions, 
became less and less impressive and less picturesque as 
one got nearer. I had by that time grown quite accus¬ 
tomed to this optical disillusion, for it was frequently 
the case with the work of man in Brazil. It always 
needed distance—the greater distance the better — to 
lend enchantment to it. 
With a feeling of intense oppression, perhaps due to 
the stifling air and the lower elevation (1,950 feet) at 
88 
