THE WORK OF UNCOUNTABLE AGES 
high Serra lay to the west, another in the distance to the 
east, the two extending almost parallel towards the south, 
where the gap in the horizon line between these ranges 
was filled by a very distant range, showing a conical peak, 
and to the west of this another, in the shape of a dome. 
It was the grandeur of these panoramas that impressed 
one most, rather than their monotonous beauty. 
All the outlines of the scenery of Central Brazil had, 
so to speak, been worn smooth by the erosive action of 
water and wind, so that no fantastically shaped moun¬ 
tains had yet been encountered, no landscape which some 
great commotion had rendered strangely picturesque. 
There, only the steady work of uncountable ages showed 
itself in a most impressive way to those who understood. 
From a pictorial point of view very little remained in 
one’s mind of those wonderful scenes after one had 
turned one’s head away, except, perhaps, their immensity 
and the deep green tones — their two salient points. 
When we had descended from the pass (elevation 
1,650 feet) we came to the Rio Tres de Majo, where a 
hamlet of three sheds was found. Twenty-eight kilo¬ 
metres from our last camp we arrived at the Rio 
Rancheria, where stood a miserable farm. Both those 
streams, at an elevation of 1,300 feet, flowed into the Rio 
Claro to the north. 
We had the misfortune to halt near the farmhouse, 
and suffered tortures from the millions of mosquitoes, 
gnats, carrapatos, and carrapatinhos which made that 
night almost unbearable. I invariably found that carra¬ 
patos and carrapatinhos were more plentiful where living 
people or animals were to be found. Near those dirty 
farmhouses we were simply swarming all over with them. 
My poor animals, owing to the long marches we had been 
making, and the terrible pack-saddles, had sore backs, 
loins, and chests. Yet we could not stop, and the poor 
things had to stand the pain and strain. 
vol. l — 9 129 
