_April 25th._—Nature seems to welcome our arrival, not only by her most

genial, but also by her exceptional moods. There has been to-day an

eclipse of the sun, total at Cape Frio, sixty miles from here, almost

total here. We saw it from the deck of the ship, not having yet taken up

our quarters in town. The effect was as strange as it was beautiful.

There was a something weird, uncanny in the pallor and chill which came

over the landscape; it was not in the least like a common twilight, but

had a ghastly, phantom-like element in it. Mr. Agassiz passed the

morning at the palace where the Emperor had invited him to witness the

eclipse from his observatory. The clouds are poor courtiers, however,

and unfortunately a mist hung over San Christovāo, obscuring the

phenomenon at the moment of its greatest interest. Our post of

observation was better for this special occasion than the Imperial

observatory, and yet, though the general scene was perhaps more

effective in the harbor than on the shore, Mr. Agassiz had an

opportunity of making some interesting observations on the action of

animals under these novel circumstances. The following extract is from

his notes. “The effect of the waning light on animals was very striking.

The bay of Rio is daily frequented by large numbers of frigate-birds and

gannets, which at night fly to the outer islands to roost, while the

carrion-crows (_urubús_) swarming in the suburbs, and especially about

the slaughterhouses of the city, retire to the mountains in the

neighborhood of Tijuca, their line of travel passing over San

Christovāo. As soon as the light began to diminish, these birds became

uneasy; evidently conscious that their day was strangely encroached

upon, they were uncertain for a moment how to act. Presently, however,

as the darkness increased, they started for their usual night quarters,

the water-birds flying southward, the vultures in a northwesterly

direction, and they had all left their feeding-grounds before the moment

of greatest obscurity arrived. They seemed to fly in all haste, but were

not half-way to their night home when the light began to return with

rapidly increasing brightness. Their confusion was now at its height.

Some continued their flight towards the mountains or the harbor, others

hurried back to the city, while others whirled about wholly uncertain

what to do next. The re-establishment of the full light of noon seemed

to decide them, however, upon making another day of it, and the whole

crowd once more moved steadily toward the city.”

The cordial interest shown by the Emperor in all the objects of the

present expedition is very encouraging to Mr. Agassiz. So liberal a

spirit in the head of the government will make his own task

comparatively easy. He has also seen several official persons on

business appertaining to his scientific schemes. Everywhere he receives

the warmest expressions of sympathy, and is assured that the

administration will give him every facility in its power to carry out

his plans. To-night finds us established in our rooms, and our Brazilian

life begins; with what success remains to be seen. While still on board

the “Colorado” we seemed to have one foot on our own soil.

_April 26th._—This morning Mrs. C—— and myself devoted to the arranging

of our little domestic matters, getting out our books, desks, and other

knickknacks, and making ourselves at home in our new quarters, where we

suppose we are likely to be for some weeks to come. This afternoon we

drove out on the Larangeiras road (literally, the “orangery”). Our first

drive in Rio left upon my mind an impression of picturesque decay;

things seemed falling to pieces, it is true, but mindful of artistic

effect even in their last moments. This impression was quite effaced

to-day. Every city has its least becoming aspect, and it seems we had

chosen an unfavorable direction for our first tour of observation. The

Larangeiras road is lined on either side by a succession of country

houses; low and spreading, often with wide verandas, surrounded by

beautiful gardens, glowing at this season with the scarlet leaves of the

Poinsettia, or “Estrella do Norte” as they call it here, with blue and

yellow Bignonias, and many other shrubs and vines, the names of which we

have hardly learned as yet. Often, as we drove along, a wide gateway,

opening into an avenue of palms, would give us a glimpse of Brazilian

life. Here and there a group of people were sitting in the garden, or

children were playing in the grounds under the care of their black

nurses. Farther out of town the country houses were less numerous, but

the scenery was more picturesque. The road winds immediately under the

mountains to the foot of the Corcovado, where it becomes too steep for

carriages, the farther ascent being made on mules or horses. But it was

too late for us,—the peak of the Corcovado was already bathed in the

setting sun. We wandered a little way up the romantic path, gathered a

few flowers, and then drove back to the city, stopping on our return to

ramble for half an hour in the “Passeio Publico.” This is a pretty

public garden on the bay, not large but tastefully laid out, its great

charm being a broad promenade built up from the water’s edge with very

solid masonry, against which the waves break with a refreshing coolness.

To-morrow we are invited by Major Ellison, chief engineer of the Dom

Pedro Railroad, to go out to the terminus of the road, some hundred

miles through the heart of the Serra do Mar.

[Illustration: Tree entwined by Sipos.]

_April 27th._—Perhaps in all our journeyings through Brazil we shall not

have a day more impressive to us all than this one; we shall, no doubt,

see wilder scenery, but the first time that one looks upon nature, under

an entirely new aspect, has a charm that can hardly be repeated. The

first view of high mountains, the first glimpse of the broad ocean, the

first sight of a tropical vegetation in all its fulness, are epochs in

one’s life. This wonderful South American forest is so matted together

and intertwined with gigantic parasites that it seems more like a solid,

compact mass of green than like the leafy screen, vibrating with every

breeze and transparent to the sun, which represents the forest in the

temperate zone. Many of the trees in the region we passed through to-day

seemed in the embrace of immense serpents, so large were the stems of

the parasites winding about them; orchids of various kinds and large

size grew upon their trunks; and vines climbed to their summits and

threw themselves down in garlands to the ground. On the embankments also

between which we passed, vines of many varieties were creeping down, as

if they would fain clothe in green garments the ugly gaps the railroad

had made. Yet it must be confessed that, in this instance, the railroad

has not destroyed, but rather heightened, the picturesque scenery,

cutting, as it does, through passes which give beautiful vistas into the

heart of the mountain range. Once, as we issued from a tunnel, where the

darkness seemed tangible, upon an exquisite landscape all gleaming in

the sunshine, a general shout from the whole party testified their

astonishment and admiration. We were riding on an open car in front of

the engine, so that nothing impeded our view, and we had no

inconvenience from smoke or cinders. During the latter part of the ride

we came into the region of the most valuable coffee-plantations; and

indeed the road is chiefly supported by the transportation of the

immense quantities of coffee raised along its track or beyond it. Near

its terminus is an extensive fazenda, from which we were told that five

or six hundred tons of coffee are sent out in a good year. These

fazendas are singular-looking establishments, low (usually only one

story) and very spreading, the largest of them covering quite an

extensive area. As they are rather isolated in situation, they must

include within their own borders all that is needed to keep them up.

There is something very primitive in the way of life of these great

country proprietors. Major Ellison told me that some time ago a wealthy

Marqueza living at some distance beyond him in the interior, and going

to town for a stay of a few weeks, stopped at his house to rest. She had

a troop of thirty-one pack-mules, laden with all conceivable baggage,

besides provisions of every sort, fowls, hams, &c., and a train of

twenty-five servants. Their hospitality is said to be unbounded; you

have only to present yourself at their gates at the end of a day’s

journey, and if you have the air of a respectable traveller, you are

sure of a hearty welcome, shelter and food. The card of a friend or a

note of introduction insures you all the house can afford for as long as

you like to stay.

The last three miles of our journey was over what is called the

“temporary road,” the use of which will be discontinued as soon as the

great tunnel is completed. I must say, that to the inexperienced this

road looks exceedingly perilous, especially that part of it which is

carried over a wooden bridge 65 feet high, with a very strong curvature

and a gradient of 4 per cent (211 feet per mile). As you feel the engine

laboring up the steep ascent, and, looking out, find yourself on the

edge of a precipitous bank, and almost face to face with the hindmost

car, while the train bends around the curve, it is difficult to resist

the sense of insecurity. It is certainly greatly to the credit of the

management of the line that no accident has occurred under circumstances

where the least carelessness would be fatal.[17]

It gives one an idea of the labor expended on this railroad, to learn

that for the great tunnel alone, now almost completed (one of fourteen),

a corps of some three hundred men, relieving each other alternately,

have been at work day and night, excepting Sundays, for seven years. The

sound of hammer and pick during that time has hardly ever been still,

and so hard is the rock through which the tunnel is pierced, that often

the heaviest blows of the sledge yield only a little dust,—no more in

bulk than a pinch of snuff.[18]

On our return we were detained for half an hour at a station on the bank

of the river Parahyba. This first visit to one of the considerable

rivers of Brazil was not without its memorable incident. One of our

friends of the Colorado, who parts from us here on his way to San

Francisco, said he was determined not to leave the expedition without

contributing something to its results. He improvised a fishing

apparatus, with a stick, a string, and a crooked pin, and caught two

fishes, our first harvest from the fresh waters of Brazil, one of which

was entirely new to Mr. Agassiz, while the other he had never seen, and

only knew from descriptions.

_April 28th._—This morning we went over to the Colorado, which still

lies in the harbor, and where the visit of the Emperor was expected. We

all felt an interest in the occasion, for we have a kind of personal

pride in the fine ship whose first voyage has been the source of so much

enjoyment to us. The Imperial yacht arrived punctually at twelve

o’clock, and was received by the captain with a full salute from his

Parrott guns, fired with a promptness and accuracy which the Emperor did

not fail to notice. His Majesty went over the whole steamer; and really

an exploring expedition over such a world in little, with its

provision-shops, its cattle stalls, its pantries and sculleries, its

endless accommodations for passengers and freight, its variety of decks

and its great central fires, deep below all, is no contemptible journey

for a tropical morning. The arrangements of the vessel seemed to excite

the interest and admiration both of the Emperor and his suite. Captain

Bradbury invited his Majesty to lunch on board; he very cordially

accepted, and remained some time afterward, conversing chiefly about

scientific subjects, and especially on matters connected with the

expedition. The Emperor is still a young man; but though only forty, he

has been the reigning sovereign of Brazil for more than half that time,

and he looks careworn and somewhat older than his years. He has a

dignified, manly presence, a face rather stern in repose, but animated

and genial in conversation; his manner is courteous and friendly to all.

_May 1st._—We celebrated May-day in a strange land, where May ushers in

the winter, by driving to the Botanical Garden. When I say we, I mean

usually the unprofessional members of the party. The scientific corps

are too busily engaged to be with us on many of our little pleasure

excursions. Mr. Agassiz himself is chiefly occupied in seeing numerous

persons in official positions, whose influence is important in matters

relative to the expedition. He is very anxious to complete these

necessary preliminaries, to despatch his various parties into the

interior, and to begin his personal investigations. He is commended to

be patient, however, and not to fret at delays; for, with the best will

in the world, the dilatory national habits cannot be changed. Meanwhile

he has improvised a laboratory in a large empty room over a warehouse in

the Rua Direita, the principal business street of the city. Here in one

corner the ornithologists, Mr. Dexter and Mr. Allen, have their bench,—a

rough board propped on two casks, the seat an empty keg; in another, Mr.

Anthony, with an apparatus of much the same kind, pores over his shells;

a dissecting-table of like carpentry occupies a conspicuous position;

and in the midst the Professor may generally be seen sitting on a

barrel, for chairs there are none, assorting or examining specimens, or

going from bench to bench to see how the work progresses. In the midst

of the confusion Mr. Burkhardt has his little table, where he is making

colored drawings of the fish as they are brought in fresh from the

fishing-boats. In a small adjoining room Mr. Sceva is preparing

skeletons for mounting. Every one, in short, has his special task and is

busily at work. A very questionable perfume, an “ancient and fish-like

smell,” strongly tinged with alcohol, guides one to this abode of

Science, where, notwithstanding its unattractive aspect, Mr. Agassiz

receives many visitors, curious to see the actual working process of a

laboratory of Natural History, and full of interest in the expedition.

Here also pour in specimens from all quarters and of every kind;

voluntary contributions, which daily swell the collections.[19] Those of

the party who are not engaged here have their work elsewhere. Mr. Hartt

and Mr. St. John are at various stations along the railroad line, making

geological sections of the road; several of the volunteers are

collecting in the country, and Mr. Hunnewell is studying at a

photographic establishment, fitting himself to assist Mr. Agassiz in

this way when we are beyond the reach of professional artists.

[Illustration: Side View of the Alley of Palms.]

[Illustration: Vista down the Alley of Palms.]

Our excursion of to-day took us to another of those exquisite drives in

the neighborhood of the city, always along the harbor or some inlet of

it, always in sight of the mountains, always bordered by pretty country

houses and gardens. The Botanical Garden is about eight miles from the

centre of the town. It is beautiful, because the situation is admirably

well chosen, and because anything that calls itself a garden can hardly

fail to be beautiful in a climate where growth is so luxuriant. But it

is not kept with great care. Indeed, the very readiness with which

plants respond to the least culture bestowed upon them here makes it

very difficult to keep grounds in that trim order which we think so

essential. This garden boasts, however, one feature as unique as it is

beautiful, in its long avenue of palms, some eighty feet in height. I

wish it were possible to give in words the faintest idea of the

architectural beauty of this colonnade of palms, with their green crowns

meeting to form the roof. Straight, firm, and smooth as stone columns, a

dim vision of colonnades in some ancient Egyptian temple rises to the

imagination as one looks down the long vista.[20]

_May 6th._—Yesterday, at the invitation of our friend Mr. B——, we

ascended the famous Corcovado peak. Leaving the carriages at the

terminus of the Larangeiras road, we made the farther ascent on

horseback by a winding narrow path, which, though a very fair road for

mountain travelling in ordinary weather, had been made exceedingly

slippery by the late rains. The ride was lovely through the fragrant

forest, with enchanting glimpses of view here and there, giving promise

of what was before us. Occasionally a brook or a little cascade made

pleasant music by the roadside, and when we stopped to rest our horses

we heard the wind rustle softly in the stiff palms overhead. The beauty

of vegetation is enhanced here by the singular character of the soil.

The color of the earth is peculiar all about Rio; of a rich warm red, it

seems to glow beneath the mass of vines and large-leaved plants above

it, and every now and then crops out in vivid, striking contrast to the

surrounding verdure. Frequently our path followed the base of such a

bank, its deep ochre and vermilion tints looking all the softer for

their framework of green. Among the larger growth, the Candelabra-tree

(_Cecropia_) was conspicuous. The strangely regular structure of the

branches and its silvery-tinted foliage make it stand out in bold relief

from the darker background. It is a striking feature of the forest in

this neighborhood.

A wide panoramic prospect always eludes description, but certainly few

can combine such rare elements of beauty as the one from the summit of

the Corcovado. The immense landlocked harbor, with its gateway open to

the sea, the broad ocean beyond, the many islands, the circle of

mountains with soft fleecy clouds floating about the nearer peaks,—all

these features make a wonderful picture. One great charm of this

landscape consists in the fact, that, though very extensive, it is not

so distant as to deprive objects of their individuality. After all, a

very distant view is something like an inventory: so many dark, green

patches, forests; so many lighter green patches, fields; so many white

spots, lakes; so many silver threads, rivers, &c. But here special

effects are not lost in the grandeur of the whole. On the extreme peak

of the height a wall has been built around the edge, the descent on one

side being so vertical that a false step might hurl one to instant

destruction. At this wall we dismounted and lingered long, unwilling to

leave the beautiful view before sunset. We were, however, anxious to

return by daylight, and, to confess the truth, being a timorous and

inexperienced rider at best, I was not without some anxiety as to the

descent, for the latter part of the slippery road had been a sheer

scramble. Putting a bold face on the matter, however, I resumed my seat,

trying to look as if it were my habit to mount horses on the tops of

high mountains and slide down to the bottom. This is really no

inaccurate description of our descent for the first ten minutes, after

which we regained the more level path at the little station called “the

Païneiras.” We are told to-day that parties usually leave their horses

at this station and ascend the rest of the way on foot, the road beyond

that being so steep that it is considered unsafe for riding. However, we

reached the plain without accident, and I look back upon yesterday’s

ride with some complacency as a first lesson in mountain travelling.[21]

_May 20th._—On Friday, the 12th of May, we left Rio on our first

excursion of any length. A day or two after our arrival Mr. Agassiz had

received an invitation from the President of the Union and Industry

Company to go with some of his party over their road from Petropolis to

Juiz de Fora, in the Province of Minas Geräes, a road celebrated not

only for the beauty of its scenery, but also for its own excellence. A

word as to the circumstances under which it has been built may not be

amiss here; and it must be confessed, that, if the Brazilians are, as

they are said to be, slow in their progress, the improvements they do

undertake are carried out with great thoroughness. It is true that the

construction of the road has been intrusted to French engineers, but the

leading man in its projection and ultimate completion has been a

Brazilian, Senhor Mariano Procopio Ferreira Lage, a native of the

province of Minas Geräes. This province is said to be remarkable for the

great energy and intelligence of its inhabitants, as compared with those

of the adjoining provinces. Perhaps this may be owing to its cooler

climate, most of its towns lying among the highlands of the Serras, and

enjoying a fresher, more stimulating air than those nearer the

sea-coast. Before undertaking the building of this road, Senhor Lage

travelled both in Europe and America with the purpose of learning all

the modern improvements in works of a similar character. The result

bears testimony to the energy and patience with which he has carried out

his project.[22] Twelve years ago the only means of going into the

interior from Petropolis was through narrow, dangerous, broken

mule-tracks, and a journey of a hundred miles involved a difficult ride

of three or four days. Now one travels from Petropolis to Juiz de Fora

between sunrise and sunset over a post-road equal to any in the world,

changing mules every ten or twelve miles at pretty little stations,

built somewhat in the style of Swiss châlets, each one of which is a

settlement for the German colonists who have been induced to come out as

workmen on the road. This emigration in itself is a great advantage to

the country; wherever these little German villages occur, nestled down

among the hills, there are the neat vegetable and flower gardens, the

tidy houses, the general aspect of thrift and comfort, so characteristic

of the better classes of the German peasantry. Nominally no slaves are

allowed on the service of the road, Portuguese and German workmen being

chiefly employed. This is a regulation which applies not only here, but

on other public works about Rio. The contracts granted by the government

expressly exclude the employment of slaves, though unfortunately this

rule is not adhered to strictly, because for the performance of certain

kinds of work no substitute for slave labor has yet been found. In the

direct care of the road, however, in the repairs, for instance,

requiring gangs of men who are constantly at work blasting rock and

cracking the fragments into small pieces for the fresh macadamizing of

any imperfect spot, mending any defects in the embankments or walls,

&c., none but free labor is employed.

This attempt to exclude slaves from the public works is an emancipation

movement, undertaken with the idea of gradually limiting slave labor to

agricultural processes, and ridding the large cities and their

neighborhood of the presence of slavery. The subject of emancipation is

no such political bugbear here as it has been with us. It is very

liberally and calmly discussed by all classes; the general feeling is

against the institution, and it seems to be taken for granted that it

will disappear before many years are over. During this very session of

the Assembly one or two bills for emancipation have been brought

forward. Even now any enterprising negro may obtain his freedom, and,

once obtained, there is no obstacle to his rising in social or political

station. But while from this point of view slavery is less absolute than

it was with us, it has some appalling aspects. The slaves, at least in

the cities, are literally beasts of burden. One sees the most cumbersome

furniture,—pianos and the like, and the heaviest trunks or barrels,

piled one on top of the other, or bales of sugar and coffee weighing

hundreds of pounds,—moving about the streets on the heads of the

negroes. The result of this is that their limbs often become crippled,

and it is common to see negroes in the prime of life who are quite

crooked and maimed, and can hardly walk without a stick to lean upon. In

justice I must add, however, that this practice, though it shocks a

stranger even now, is gradually disappearing. We are told that a few

years ago there were hardly any baggage-wagons except these living ones,

and that the habit of using the blacks in this way is going out of

vogue. In this as in other matters the Emperor’s opinions are those of

an enlightened and humane man, and were his power equal to his will,

slavery would vanish from his dominions at once. He is, however, too

wise not to know that all great social changes must be gradual; but he

openly declares his abhorrence of the system.[23]

But to return from this digression to the road of the Union and Industry

Company. It is now completed as far as Juiz de Fora, affording every

convenience for the transport of the rich harvest of coffee constantly

travelling over it from all the fazendas in the region. As the whole

district is very rich in coffee-plantations, the improvement in the

means of transportation is of course very important to the commercial

interests of the country, and Senhor Lage is making practicable roads to

the smallest settlements in his neighborhood. He has not, however, been

free from the difficulties which men encounter whose schemes are in

advance of their surroundings. No doubt a great part of the

dissatisfaction is owing to the fact that the road is not so

remunerative as was anticipated, the advance of the Dom Pedro Railroad

having impaired its success. Still it must be considered as a monument

to the public spirit and energy of the men who undertook it. Not wishing

to interrupt the course of the narrative, I have thought it best to

preface the story of our journey by some account of this road, the

building of which is a significant fact in the present history of

Brazil. I will now take up again the thread of our personal adventures.

Leaving the city at two o’clock in the ferry-boat, we kept up the harbor

some fifteen miles. There was a cool breeze, and the day, though warm,

was not oppressive. Passing the large Ilha do Governador, the smaller

but exceedingly pretty island of Paqueta, and many others, with their

palms, banana and acacia trees, dotting the harbor of Rio and adding

another grace to its beauty, we landed in about an hour and a quarter at

the little town of Mauá.[24] Here we took the cars, and an hour’s ride

through low and marshy grounds brought us to the foot of the Serra

(_Raiz da Serra_), where we left the railroad for the post-coach, which

runs regularly from this station. The drive was delightful, in an open

diligence drawn by four mules on the full gallop over a road as smooth

as a floor. It wound zigzag up the mountains, through the wildest

scenery, while below us lay the valley broken into a billowy sea of

green hills, and the harbor with the coast range beyond, growing soft

and mellow in the afternoon sunshine. To complete the picture, one must

clothe it in palms and acacias and tree-ferns, and drape it in a tangle

of parasitic growth, with abundant bloom of the purple Quaresma (Flower

of Lent),[25] the Thunbergia vine, with its little straw-colored

blossoms creeping over every wall and shrub, and the blue and yellow

Bignonias. We are constantly astonished at the variety of palms. A palm

is such a rarity in our hot-houses, that we easily forget how numerous

and varied they are in their native forests. We have the scarlet-oak,

the white-oak, the scrub-oak, the chestnut-oak, the swamp-oak, and many

others. And so in the tropical forest there is the cocoanut-palm, with

its swollen, bulb-like stem when young, its tall, straight trunk when

full grown, its cluster of heavy fruit, and its long, plume-like,

drooping flower;[26] the Coccoeiro, with its slighter trunk and pendant

branches of small berry-like fruit; the Palmetto, with its tender

succulent bud on the summit of the stem, which is used as a vegetable

here, and makes an excellent substitute for cabbage; the thorny Icaree

or Cari, a variety of fan-palms, with their leaves cut like ribbons; and

very many others, each with its characteristic foliage and

appearance.[27]

The mountains along the road, as indeed throughout the neighborhood of

Rio, are of very peculiar forms, steep and conical, suggesting at first

sight a volcanic origin. It is this abruptness of outline which gives so

much grandeur to mountain ranges here, the average height of which does

not exceed two or three thousand feet. A closer examination of their

structure shows that their wild, fantastic forms are the result of the

slow processes of disintegration, not of sudden convulsions. Indeed, the

rocks here differ so much in external character from those of the

Northern Hemisphere, that the European geologist stands at first

bewildered before them, and feels that the work of his life is to be

done over again. It is some time before he obtains a clew to the facts

and brings them into harmony with his previous knowledge. Thus far Mr.

Agassiz finds himself painfully perplexed by this new aspect of

phenomena so familiar to him in other regions, but so baffling here. He

comes upon a rock, for instance, or a rounded elevation which by its

outline he would suppose to be a “roche moutonnée,” but approaching it

more nearly he finds a decomposed crust instead of a glaciated surface.

It is the same with the loose materials corresponding to the drift of

the Northern hemisphere, and with all boulders or detached masses of

rock; on account of their disintegration wherever they are exposed to

the atmosphere, nothing is to be learned from their external appearance.

There is not a natural surface of rock, unless recently broken, to be

found anywhere.

The sun had set before we drove into the pretty town of Petropolis, the

summer paradise of all Rio Janeirans whose circumstances enable them to

leave the heat and dirt and vile smells of the city, for the pure air

and enchanting views of the Serra. In a central position stands the

summer palace of the Emperor, a far gayer and more cheerful-looking

edifice than the palace at San Christovāo. Here he passes six months of

the year. Through the midst of the town runs the pretty river Piabanha,

a shallow stream, now rippling along in the bottom of its bed between

high green banks; but we were told that a night of rain in the hot

season is enough to swell its waters till they overflow and flood the

road. I could not but think how easy it would be for any one who cares

to see tropical scenery to come here, when the direct line of steamers

from New York is established, and, instead of going to Newport or

Nahant, to take a house in Petropolis for the summer. It commands all

the most beautiful scenery about Rio, and the horseback rides are

without end. During our summer the weather is delightful here, just

admitting a semblance of wood-fire morning and evening, while the orange

orchards are golden with fruit, and flowers are everywhere. We had

little time to become acquainted with the beauty of the place, which we

hope to explore more at our leisure on some future visit, for sunrise

the next morning saw us on our road again. The soft clouds hanging over

the tops of the mountains were just tinged with the first rays of the

sun when we drove out of the town on the top of the diligence, the mules

at full gallop, the guard sounding a gay reveille as we rattled over the

little bridge and past the pretty houses where closed windows and doors

showed that the inhabitants were hardly yet astir.

The first part of our road lay through the lovely valley of the

Piabanha, the river whose acquaintance we had already made in

Petropolis, and which accompanied us for the first forty or fifty miles

of our journey, sometimes a restless stream broken into rapids and

cascades, sometimes spreading into a broad, placid river, but always

enclosed between mountains rising occasionally to the height of a few

thousand feet, lifting here and there a bare rocky face seamed with a

thousand scars of time and studded with Bromelias and Orchids, but more

often clothed with all the glory of the Southern forest, or covered from

base to summit with coffee shrubs. A thriving coffee plantation is a

very pretty sight; the rounded, regular outline of the shrubs gives a

tufted look to the hillside on which they grow, and their glittering

foliage contrasts strikingly at this season with their bright red

berries. One often passes coffee plantations, however, which look ragged

and thin; in this case the trees are either suffering from the peculiar

insect so injurious to them, (a kind of Tinea,) or have run out and

become exhausted. As we drove along, the scenes upon the road were often

as amusing as they were picturesque. Now we came upon a troop of pack

mules with a _tropeiro_ (driver) at their head; if a large troop, they

were divided into companies of eight, with a man to guide each company.

The guard wound his horn to give warning of our coming, and a general

struggle, garnished with kicks, oaths, and many lashes, ensued, to

induce the mules to make way for the coach. These troops of mules are

beginning to disappear from the seaboard since the modern improvements

in railroads and stage lines, making transportation so much easier; but

until lately it was the only way of bringing down the produce from the

interior. Or again we fell in with a line of country wagons made of

plaited bamboo, a kind of fabric which is put to a variety of uses here,

such as the building of fences and lining of ceilings or roofs, as well

as the construction of carts. Here and there the laborers were sitting

in groups at the roadside, their work suspended while they cooked their

midday meal, their kettles hanging over the fire, their coffee-pot

simmering over the coals, and they themselves lying about in gypsy-like

freedom of attitude.

At Posse, the third stage of our road, after having gone some thirty

miles, we also stopped to breakfast, a meal which was by no means

unacceptable after our three hours’ ride. It is an almost universal

custom with the Brazilians, especially when travelling, to take their

cup of black coffee on rising, and defer their more solid breakfast till

ten or eleven o’clock. I do not know whether my readers will sympathize

with me, but I am always disappointed myself if any book of travels,

having led me along the weary road, does not tell me what the hungry

wanderers had to eat. It seems hardly fair, having shared their

fatigues, that I should not also share their refreshment and be invited

to sit down at table with them. Doing, therefore, as I would be done by,

I shall give our bill of fare, and take an opportunity of saying a word

at the same time of the characteristic Brazilian dishes. In the first

place we had black beans stewed with _carne secca_ (dried meat), the

invariable accompaniment of every meal in Brazil. There is no house so

poor that it does not have its _feijōes_, no house so rich as to exclude

this homely but most excellent dish, a favorite alike with high and low.

Then there was chicken stewed with potatoes and rice, almost as marked a

feature of the Brazilian cuisine as the black beans. Beside these, there

were eggs served in various ways, cold meat, wine, coffee, and bread.

Vegetables seem to be rare, though one would expect a plentiful variety

in this climate.[28] At Posse Mr. Agassiz found a cordial co-operator in

Mr. Charles Taylor, who expressed a warm interest in his scientific

researches, and kept one of the collecting cans that he might fill it

with fishes from the neighboring rivers and streams.[29]

Our kind friend Senhor Joaō Baptista da Fonseca, who was our guide and

our host on this journey, had neglected nothing which could contribute

to the success and pleasure of the party, and had so prepared the way

for the scientific objects of the excursion that at several points of

the road we found collections of fishes and other animals awaiting us by

the roadside. Once or twice, as we passed a fazenda, a negro carrying a

basket came out to stop the diligence, and, lifting the cool green

leaves which covered them, showed freshly caught fishes of all hues and

sizes. It was rather aggravating, especially as we approached the end of

our long drive, and the idea of dinner readily suggested itself, to see

them disappear in the alcohol cans.[30]

At about midday we bade good by to the pretty river we had followed thus

far, and at the Estaçaō d’Entre Rios (between the rivers) crossed the

fine bridge which spans the Parahyba at this point. The Parahyba is the

large river which flows for a great part of its course between the Serra

do Mar and the Serra da Mantiqueira, emptying into the Atlantic at San

Joaō da Barra considerably to the northeast of Rio de Janeiro. One is a

little bewildered at first by the variety of Serras in Brazil, because

the word is used to express not only important chains of mountains, but

all their spurs. Any mountainous elevation is a Serra; but though there

is an endless number of them between the Serra do Mar and the Serra da

Mantiqueira, these are the two most important chains, running parallel

with the sea-coast. Between them flows the Parahyba with its many

branches. It is important to make collections here, as the peculiar

character of this water basin, the many tributaries of which drain the

southern water-shed of the Serra da Mantiqueira, and the northern

water-shed of the Serra do Mar, make it of especial interest for the

naturalist. On account of its neighborhood to the sea, it is also

desirable to compare its inhabitants with those of the many short,

disconnected rivers which empty into the Atlantic on the other side of

the coast range. In short, it gives a good opportunity for testing those

questions of the geographical distribution of living beings, as

connected with their origin, which Mr. Agassiz so strongly urged upon

his assistants during our voyage.

Soon after crossing the Parahyba, the road strikes the Parahybuna, a

tributary which enters the main river on its northern side, nearly

opposite the Piabanha. The latter part of the journey is less wild than

the first half; the mountains fall away in somewhat gentler slopes, and

do not shut in the road with the steep rugged precipices so striking in

the valley of the Piabanha. But though perhaps less picturesque on

approaching Juiz de Fora,[31] the scenery is beautiful enough throughout

the whole ride to satisfy the most fastidious and keep the attention

constantly awake. We arrived at the end of our journey at about six

o’clock, and found most comfortable accommodations prepared for us at a

little cottage, built somewhat in the style of a Swiss châlet, and kept

by the company for the use of their guests or for the directors of the

road. An excellent dinner awaited us at the little hotel just opposite,

the door of which is shaded by two stately palms; and with a ramble in

the neighboring grounds of Senhor Lage, and a concert by a band of

German musicians, consisting of employees on the road, our day closed,—a

day full of pleasure.

The following morning we were indebted to Senhor Lage for a walk, as

instructive as it was charming, through his gardens and orange orchards.

Not only has he arranged his grounds with exquisite taste, but has

endeavored to bring together the shrubs and trees most characteristic of

the country, so that a stroll through his place is a valuable lesson to

the botanist, the more so if he is fortunate enough to have the

proprietor as a companion, for he may then learn the name and history of

every tree and flower he passes. Such a guide is invaluable here, for

the Brazilians seem to remain in blissful ignorance of systematic

nomenclature; to most of them all flowers are “flores,” all animals,

from a fly up to a mule or an elephant, “bixos.” One of the most

beautiful features of Senhor Lage’s grounds is a plantation of

parasites,—an extensive walk, bordered on either side by a rustic fence,

over which are trained some of the most exquisite parasitic plants of

the Brazilian forests. In the midst of this walk is the Grotto of the

Princesses, so called after the daughters of the Emperor who, on

occasion of a visit made by the Imperial family to Juiz de Fora, at the

opening of the road, were exceedingly pleased with this pretty spot,

where a spring all overhung with parasitic vines, orchids, &c. flows out

from the rock. The spring, however, is artificial, and is a part of the

admirable system of irrigation introduced over the whole estate. So

rapid is the growth of everything here that one can hardly believe this

beautiful country place to have been under cultivation only five or six

years; a few years more under the same direction will make it a tropical

paradise.

A variety of plans combining pleasure and science had been arranged for

the next day. First on the list was a drive to the “Forest of the

Empress.” Everything of any interest in the neighborhood recalls the

visit of the Imperial family at the opening of the road. From this event

all loyal Juiz de Forans date, and the virgin forest we were to visit is

consecrated by the fact that on this great occasion the Emperor with his

family and suite breakfasted here in presence of a numerous assemblage

of their loving subjects. Surely a more stately banqueting-hall could

scarcely be found. The throne was cut in the broad buttressed trunk of a

huge figueira; the rustic table, built of rough stems, stood under the

shadow of great palm-trees; and around was the tropical forest,

tapestried with vines, and embroidered with Orchids. These were royal

accompaniments, even though the whole entertainment was conducted with a

simplicity in harmony with the scene. Neither gold nor silver nor glass

was brought to vie with the beauties of nature; the drinking-cups were

made from the hollow stems of the wild bamboo-tree, and all the service

was of the same rustic description. The tables, seats, &c. stand,

undisturbed, as they were on that day, and of course this spot remains a

favorite resort for humbler picnics than the one by which it was

inaugurated. We wandered about for some time in the cool shade of the

wood, lunched under the rustling palms, and then drove homeward,

stopping for a while by the side of the river, where a pretty cascade

rushes over the stones, and a rustic house built for the same memorable

occurrence makes a pleasant resting-place. In the afternoon a heavy rain

kept us within doors, but we were not sorry, for we were in danger of

having a surfeit of pleasure, and quiet was very grateful.

A great part of our last day at Juiz de Fora was spent at the hospitable

house of Mr. Halfeld, the German engineer who has gained an honorable

distinction by his explorations in the interior. His work on the Rio San

Francisco was well known to Mr. Agassiz, so that they found themselves

at once on familiar ground, and Mr. Halfeld was able to give him a great

deal of valuable information respecting the prospects of the present

expedition, especially that department of it which will go to the

Amazons by way of the Rio San Francisco and the Tocantins. He has also

an interesting collection of objects of natural history, and cordially

offered his assistance in obtaining the fishes of the neighborhood. As

for the collections, they had been going on famously during our whole

visit. We had hardly been in Juiz de Fora twenty-four hours before a

dozen collectors were actively at work. All the urchins of the

neighborhood and many of the Germans employed on the road lent a helping

hand. Even the ladies did their full share, and Mr. Agassiz was indebted

to our friend Mrs. K—— for some of the most interesting specimens from

this locality. No doubt such as were left of the “bixos” of Juiz de Fora

must have congratulated themselves on our departure the following

morning.

We enjoyed our return over the same road scarcely less than our first

introduction to it; but the latter part of the day was full of an

interest which touched us more nearly. At Posse, where we had

breakfasted on our way up, Mr. Taylor welcomed us with a Portuguese

paper containing a bulletin announcing the great victories of the North.

Petersburg and Richmond taken,—Lee in full retreat,—the war virtually

over. This was the substance of the news received with delight and

acclamation, not without tears of gratitude also, and we went on our way

rejoicing. As we drove up to the Hotel Inglez after dark that evening,

hoping to get a glimpse of an American paper, or at least to have the

good news confirmed through the American Minister, General Webb, whose

residence is at Petropolis, we were greeted by the announcement of the

assassination of Lincoln and Seward, both believed at this time to be

dead. At first it seemed absolutely incredible, and the more sanguine

among us persisted in regarding it as a gigantic street rumor, invented

perhaps by Secession sympathizers, till on our return to town the next

morning our worst fears were confirmed by the French steamer just

arrived. The days seemed very long till the next mail, which reassured

us somewhat, as it brought the news of Mr. Seward’s probable recovery

and strengthened our faith in the stability of the national character.

All the accounts, public and private, assure us that, though there is

mourning throughout the land, there is no disturbance of the general

regularity and order.

-----

Footnote 16:

The winter palace of the Emperor.

Footnote 17:

Some weeks after this I chanced to ask a beautiful young Brazilian

woman, recently married, whether she had ever been over this temporary

road for the sake of seeing the picturesque scenery. “No,” she

answered with perfect seriousness, “I am young and very happy, and I

do not wish to die yet.” It was an amusing comment on the Brazilian

estimate of the dangers attending the journey.

Footnote 18:

This road, which is but the beginning of railroad travel in Brazil,

opens a rich prospect for scientific study. From this time forward the

difficulty of transporting collections from the interior to the

seaboard will be diminishing. Instead of the few small specimens of

tropical vegetation now preserved in our museums, I hope that

hereafter, in every school where geology and palæontology are taught,

we shall have large stems and portions of trunks to show the structure

of palms, tree-ferns, and the like,—trees which represent in modern

times the ancient geological forests. The time is coming when our

text-books of botany and zoölogy will lose their local, limited

character, and present comprehensive pictures of Nature in all her

phases. Then only will it be possible to make true and pertinent

comparisons between the condition of the earth in former times and its

present aspect under different zones and climates. To this day the

fundamental principle guiding our identification of geological

formations in different ages rests upon the assumption that each

period has had one character throughout; whereas the progress of

geology is daily pressing upon us the evidence that at each period

different latitudes and different continents have always had their

characteristic animals and plants, if not as diversified as now, at

least varied enough to exclude the idea of uniformity. Not only do I

look for a vast improvement in our collections with improved methods

of travel and transportation in Brazil, but I hope that scientific

journeys in the tropics will cease to be occasional events in the

progress and civilization of nations, and will be as much within the

reach of every student as journeys in the temperate zone have hitherto

been. For further details respecting the building of this road, see

Appendix No. IV.—L. A.

Footnote 19:

Among the frequent visitors at the laboratory, and one to whom Mr.

Agassiz was indebted for most efficient aid in making his collection

of fishes from the harbor of Rio, was our friend Dr. Pacheco de Silva,

who never lost an opportunity of paying us all sorts of friendly

attentions. He added quite a number of luxuries to the working-room

described above. Another friend who was often at the laboratory was

Dr. Nägeli. Notwithstanding his large practice, he found time to

assist Mr. Agassiz not only with collections but with drawings of

various specimens. Being himself an able naturalist, his co-operation

was very valuable. The collections were indeed enriched by

contributions from so many sources that it would be impossible to

enumerate them all here. In the more technical reports of the

expedition all such gifts are recorded, with the names of those

persons from whom the specimens were received.

Footnote 20:

The palm is the beautiful _Oreodoxa oleracea_.

Footnote 21:

Leuzinger’s admirable photographs of the scenery about the Corcovado,

as well as from Petropolis, the Organ Mountains, and the neighborhood

of Rio generally, may now be had in the print-shops of Boston and New

York. I am the more desirous to make this fact known as I am indebted

to Mr. Leuzinger for very generous assistance in the illustration of

scientific objects.—L. A.

Footnote 22:

A commemorative tablet, set in the rocks on the dividing line between

the provinces of Rio de Janeiro and Minas Geräes, recording the speech

of the Emperor on the occasion of the opening of the road, testifies

the appreciation in which this undertaking was held by the government

of Brazil.

Footnote 23:

Since this was written the Emperor, at a large pecuniary sacrifice,

has liberated all the slaves belonging to the property of the crown,

and a general scheme of emancipation has been announced by the

Brazilian government, the wisdom, foresight, and benevolence of which

can hardly be too highly praised. If this be adopted, slavery in

Brazil will disappear within the century by a gradual process,

involving no violent convulsion, and perilling neither the safety of

the slave nor the welfare of his master.

Footnote 24:

To the Baron de Mauá, a leader in the great improvements now going on

in Brazil, the citizens of Rio de Janeiro owe their present convenient

road to Petropolis, their favorite summer residence.

Footnote 25:

A species of Melastoma, with very large, conspicuous flowers.—L. A.

Footnote 26:

This is not, however, native to Brazil.

Footnote 27:

Indeed, their diversity is much greater even than that of our Oaks,

and it would require a comprehensive comparison with a majority of our

forest-trees to match the differences they exhibit among themselves;

and their native names, far more euphonic than the systematic names

under which they are entered in our scientific works, are as familiar

to the Indians as those of our beeches, birches, hazels, chestnuts,

poplars, or willows to our farmers. There are four essentially

different forms among the palms: the tall ones, with a slender and

erect stem, terminating with a crown of long feathery leaves, or with

broad fan-shaped leaves; the bushy ones, the leaves of which rise as

it were in tufts from the ground, the stem remaining hidden under the

foliage; the brush-like ones, with a small stem, and a few rather

large leaves; and the winding, creeping, slender species. Their

flowers and fruits are as varied as their stock. Some of these fruits

may be compared to large woody nuts, with a fleshy mass inside; others

have a scaly covering; others resemble peaches or apricots, while

others still are like plums or grapes. Most of them are eatable and

rather pleasant to the taste. It is a thousand pities that so many of

these majestic trees should have been deprived of their sonorous

native names, to bear henceforth, in the annals of science, the names

of some unknown princes, whom flattery alone could rescue from

oblivion. The Inaja has become a Maximiliana, the Jara a Leopoldinia,

the Pupunha a Guilielma, the Pachiuba an Iriartea, the Carana a

Mauritia. The changes from Indian to Greek names have not been more

felicitous. I would certainly have preferred Jacitara to Desmonchus,

Mucaja to Acrocomia, Baccába to Œnocarpus, Tucuma to Astrocaryum. Even

Euterpe for Assai is hardly an improvement.—L. A.

Footnote 28:

This observation was confirmed by our year’s travel. The Brazilians

care little for a variety of vegetables, and do not give much

attention to their cultivation. Those they do use are chiefly imported

in cans from Europe.

Footnote 29:

On our return from the Amazons a year later we heard with great regret

of the death of Mr. Taylor For many months he took an active part in

the objects of the Expedition, being himself a good naturalist, and

not only made valuable collections for Mr. Agassiz, but also some

admirable colored drawings of fishes and insects, which it is hoped

may be published at a future time with the other scientific results of

this journey.

Footnote 30:

My experience of this day might well awaken the envy of any

naturalist, and I was myself no less astonished than grateful for its

scientific results. Not only had Senhor Lage provided us with the most

comfortable private conveyance, but he had sent messengers in advance

to all the planters residing near our line of travel, requesting them

to provide all the fishes that were to be had in the adjoining rivers

and brooks. The agents of the stations situated near water-courses had

also received instructions to have similar collections in readiness,

and in two places I found large tanks filled with living specimens of

all the species in the neighborhood. The small number of species

subsequently added, upon repeated excursions to different parts of the

basin of the Parahyba, convinced me that in this one day, thanks to

the kindness of our host and his friends, I had an opportunity of

examining nearly its whole ichthyological fauna, and of making

probably as complete a collection from it as may be found from any of

the considerable rivers of Europe in the larger museums of the Old

World.—L. A.

Footnote 31:

In some maps this place is inscribed under the name of Parahybuna.

CHAPTER III.

LIFE IN RIO CONTINUED.—FAZENDA LIFE.

BOTAFOGO.—INSANE HOSPITAL.—TIJUCA.—ERRATIC

DRIFT.—VEGETATION.—BIRTHDAY DINNER.—ARRANGEMENTS FOR PARTIES TO

THE INTERIOR.—PUBLIC LECTURES IN RIO.—PROCESSION OF ST.

GEORGE.—LEAVE RIO ON EXCURSION TO THE FORTALEZA DE SANTA

ANNA.—LOCALITIES FOR ERRATIC DRIFT BETWEEN RIO AND

PETROPOLIS.—DEPARTURE FROM JUIZ DE FORA.—ARRIVAL AT THE

FAZENDA.—RIDE IN THE FOREST.—EVE OF SAN JOAŌ.—CUPIM

NESTS.—EXCURSION TO THE UPPER FAZENDA.—GRAND HUNT.—PICNIC.—COFFEE

PLANTATION.—RETURN TO RIO.—MIMIC SNOW-FIELDS.—COFFEE INSECT

SPINNING ITS NEST.—VISIT TO THE FAZENDA OF COMMENDADOR

BREVES.—BOTANIZING EXCURSION TO TIJUCA.—PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING

RIO.—MAJOR COUTINHO.—COLLEGIO DOM PEDRO SEGUNDO.

[Illustration: Botafogo Bay.]

_May 22d._—This afternoon Dr. and Mrs. C—— and myself went out for a

country ramble, somewhat at a venture, it is true, but feeling sure that

in the beautiful scenery about Rio we could hardly go amiss. We took one

of the many ferry-boats in the neighborhood of our hotel, and presently

found ourselves on the way to Botafogo. Almost all the environs of the

city are built along beaches; there is the beach or Praia of Botafogo,

the Praia of San Christovāo, the Praia of San Domingo, and half a dozen

others, all of which mean some suburb of the town situated on the shore

with a beach in front of it. As it is rather the fashion for the better

class of people to live out of town, the houses and gardens in these

suburbs are often delightful. We enjoyed the sail exceedingly. For a

part of the way the boat keeps close under the mountains, and no

description can give an idea of their picturesque outlines, or of the

wonderful coloring which softens all their asperities and mellows the

whole landscape. We landed at a jetty thrown out from a romantic-looking

road, and as we found no carriage on the wharf, and ascertained that the

boat did not return for two hours, we wandered up this road to see where

chance would lead us. The afternoon would have been full of interest had

it ended in the walk along the crescent-shaped bay, with the water

rippling on the sands, and the mountains opposite all purple in the

afternoon sunshine. The road brought us, however, to a magnificent

hospital for the insane, the hospital of Dom Pedro Segundo, which we had

seen and admired from the deck of the steamer on the day of our arrival.

We entered the grounds, and as the great door of the building was open

and the official on guard looked by no means forbidding, we ascended the

steps and went in. It is difficult to imagine an edifice more

appropriate for the purpose to which it is devoted. It is true we saw

only the public rooms and corridors, as a permit was required to enter

the wards; but a plan hanging near the entrance gave us an idea of the

arrangement of the building, and its general aspect bore testimony to

the cleanliness, cheerfulness, and order of the establishment. Some of

the public rooms were very handsome,—especially one, at the end of which

stands a statue of the boy Emperor, taken, no doubt, at the time of his

coronation. In the man of forty you still recognize the frank,

intelligent, manly face of the lad on whom such great responsibility was

thrown at the age of fifteen. As we went up the spacious staircase, the

sound of music brought us to the door of the chapel, where the evening

service was going on. Patients and nurses were kneeling together; a

choir of female voices was singing sweetly a calm, peaceful kind of

music; that somewhat monotonous chanting, so passionless in its regular

movement, which one hears in the Catholic Church; the candles were

burning before the altar, but the great window just outside the door was

open to the setting sun, and, as I stood in the balcony looking out on

the mountains and listening to the music, I thought that a mind which

had gone astray might find its way back again in such scenes and under

such influences. Certainly, if nature has any healing power, it must be

felt here. We lingered and listened as long as we dared, and stole away

as the services were closing, just in time to take the evening boat.

[Illustration: Mina Negress.]

_May 25th._—The fish-market is, in all seaport towns, a favorite haunt

with Mr. Agassiz, and here it has an especial interest for him on

account of the variety and beauty of the fishes brought in every

morning. I sometimes accompany him in these rambles for the pleasure of

seeing the fresh loads of oranges, flowers, and vegetables, and of

watching the picturesque negro groups selling their wares or sitting

about in knots to gossip. We have already learned that the fine-looking

athletic negroes of a nobler type, at least physically, than any we see

in the States, are the so-called Mina negroes, from the province of

Mina, in Western Africa. They are a very powerful-looking race, and the

women especially are finely made and have quite a dignified presence. I

am never tired of watching them in the street and market, where they are

to be seen in numbers, being more commonly employed as venders of fruit

and vegetables than as house-servants. It is said that a certain wild

and independent element in their character makes them unfit for domestic

service. The women always wear a high muslin turban, and a long,

bright-colored shawl, either crossed on the breast and thrown carelessly

over the shoulder, or, if the day be chilly, drawn closely around them,

their arms hidden in its folds. The amount of expression they throw into

the use of this shawl is quite amazing. I watched a tall, superbly made

woman in the street to-day who was in a great passion. Gesticulating

violently, she flung her shawl wide, throwing out both arms, then,

drawing it suddenly in, folded it about her, and stretched herself to

her full height; presently opening it once more, she shook her fist in

the face of her opponent, and then, casting one end of her long drapery

over her shoulder, stalked away with the air of a tragedy queen. It

serves as a cradle also, for, tying it loosely round their hips, they

slip the baby into the folds behind, and there it hangs, rocked to sleep

by the mother’s movement as she walks on with her long, swinging tread.

The Mina negress is almost invariably remarkable for her beautiful hand

and arm. She seems to be conscious of this, and usually wears

close-fitting bracelets at the wrist, made of some bright-colored beads,

which set off the form of the hand and are exceedingly becoming on her

dark, shining skin. These negroes are Mohammedans, and are said to

remain faithful to their prophet, though surrounded by the observances

of the Catholic Church. They do not seem to me so affable and responsive

as the Congo negroes, but are, on the contrary, rather haughty. One

morning I came upon a cluster of them in the market breakfasting after

their work was done, and I stopped to talk with them, asking what they

had for breakfast, and trying various subjects on which to open an

acquaintance. But they looked at me coldly and suspiciously, barely

answering my questions, and were evidently relieved when I walked away.

[Illustration: Mina Negress and Child.]

_May 26th._—Tijuca. In the pleasant environs of Rio there is no resort

more frequented than the establishment of Mr. Bennett at Tijuca, and we

were not sorry the day before yesterday to leave the hot, dusty city,

with a pleasant party of friends, for this cluster of mountains, some

eighteen hundred feet above the sea level and about eight miles from

Rio. It takes its name from the peak of Tijuca, so conspicuous an object

in the coast range. On our arrival we were very cordially welcomed by

our host himself, who was not quite a stranger to us, for Mr. Agassiz

has been already indebted to him for valuable collections. Mr. Bennett

has an Englishman’s love of nature, and is very familiar with the botany

and zoölogy of the beautiful region which has been his home for many

years. Under his guidance, we have taken a number of pleasant rambles

and rides, regretting only that we cannot avail ourselves for a longer

time of his intimate knowledge of the locality and its productions.

I have alluded before to the perplexing character of the geology, and

the almost universal decomposition of the rock surfaces, making it

difficult to decipher them. The presence of the drift phenomena, so

universal in the Northern hemisphere, has been denied here; but, in his

long walk to-day, Mr. Agassiz has had an opportunity of observing a

great number of erratic boulders, having no connection with the rocks in

place, and also a sheet of drift studded with boulders and resting above

the partially stratified metamorphic rock in immediate contact with it.

I introduce here a letter written by him to his friend, Professor Peirce

of Harvard University, under the first impression of the day’s

experience, which will best explain his view of the subject.

“May 27th, 1865, TIJUCA.

“MY DEAR PEIRCE:—

“Yesterday was one of the happiest days of my life, and I want to

share it with you. Here I am at Tijuca, a cluster of hills, about

eighteen hundred feet high and some seven or eight miles from Rio,

in a charming cottage-like hotel, from the terrace of which you see

a drift hill with innumerable erratic boulders, as characteristic as

any I have ever seen in New England. I had before seen sundry

unmistakable traces of drift, but there was everywhere connected

with the drift itself such an amount of decomposed rocks of various

kinds, that, though I could see the drift and distinguish it from

the decomposed primary rocks in place, on account of my familiarity

with that kind of deposits, yet I could probably never have

satisfied anybody else that there is here an equivalent of the

Northern drift, had I not found yesterday, near Bennett’s hotel at

Tijuca, the most palpable superposition of drift and decomposed

rocks, with a distinct line of demarcation between the two, of which

I shall secure a good photograph. This locality afforded me at once

an opportunity of contrasting the decomposed rocks which form a

characteristic feature of the whole country (as far as I have yet

seen it) with the superincumbent drift, and of making myself

familiar with the peculiarities of both deposits; so that I trust I

shall be able hereafter to distinguish both, whether they are in

contact with one another or found separately. These decomposed rocks

are quite a new feature to me in the structure of the country.

Imagine granite, gneiss, mica slate, clay slate, and in fact all the

various kinds of rocks usually found in old metamorphic formations,

reduced to the condition of a soft paste, exhibiting all the

mineralogical elements of the rocks, as they may have been before

they were decomposed, but now completely disintegrated and resting

side by side, as if they had been accumulated artificially in the

manner you have seen glass cylinders filled with variously colored

sands or clays to imitate the appearance of the beds of Gay-Head.

And through this loose mass there run, here and there, larger or

smaller dikes of quartz-rock or of granite or other rocks equally

disintegrated; but they retain the arrangement of their materials,

showing them to be disintegrated dikes in large disintegrated masses

of rock; the whole passing unmistakably to rocks of the same kind in

which the decomposition or disintegration is only partial, or no

trace of it visible, and the whole mass exhibiting then the

appearance of an ordinary metamorphic set of rocks.

“That such masses forming everywhere the surface of the country

should be a great obstacle to the study of the erratic phenomena is

at once plain, and I do not therefore wonder that those who seem

familiar with the country should now entertain the idea that the

surface rocks are everywhere decomposed, and that there is no

erratic formation or drift here. But upon close examination it is

easy to perceive that, while the decomposed rocks consist of small

particles of the primitive rocks which they represent, with their

dikes and all other characteristic features, there is not a trace of

larger or smaller boulders in them; while the superincumbent drift,

consisting of a similar paste, does not show the slightest sign of

the indistinct stratification characteristic of the decomposed

metamorphic rocks below it, nor any of the decomposed dikes, but is

full of various kinds of boulders of various dimensions. I have not

yet traced the boulders to their origin; but the majority consist of

a kind of greenstone composed of equal amounts of a greenish black

hornblende and feldspar. In Entre Rios on the Parahyba, I was told

by an engineer on the road that in Minas Geräes iron mines are

worked in a rock like these boulders. This week I propose to explore

the Serra da Mantiqueira,[32] which separates the province of Rio

from Minas, and may advance the question further. But you see that I

need not go to the Andes to find erratics, though it may yet be

necessary for me to go, in order to trace the evidence of glacier

action in the accumulation of this drift; for you will notice that I

have only given you the evidence of extensive accumulations of drift

similar in its characteristics to Northern drift. But I have not yet

seen a trace of glacial action properly speaking, if polished

surfaces and scratches and furrows are especially to be considered

as such.

“The decomposition of the surface rocks to the extent to which it

takes place here is very remarkable, and points to a new geological

agency, thus far not discussed in our geological theories. It is

obvious here (and to-day with the pouring rain which keeps me in

doors I have satisfactory evidence of it) that the warm rains

falling upon the heated soil must have a very powerful action in

accelerating the decomposition of rocks. It is like torrents of hot

water falling for ages in succession upon hot stones. Think of the

effect, and, instead of wondering at the large amount of decomposed

rocks which you meet everywhere, you will be surprised that there

are any rocks left in their primitive condition. It is, however, the

fact, that all the rocks you see are encased, as it were, in a

lining of the decomposed part of their surface; they are actually

covered with a rotten crust of their own substance.

“Ever truly yours,

“L. AGASSIZ.”

Among the objects of special interest which we have seen here for the

first time are the colossal fruits of the Sapucaia-tree, a species of

Lecythis, belonging to the same family as the Brazilian nuts. These

fruits, of which there are a number of species, vary from the size of an

apple to that of an ordinary melon; they resemble an urn closed with a

lid, and contain about fifty seeds as large as almonds. The woods all

over these Tijuca hills are beautiful and wonderfully luxuriant; but I

lack names for the various trees. We are not yet familiar enough with

the aspect of the forest to distinguish readily its different forms of

vegetation; and it is besides exceedingly difficult here to ascertain

the common names of plants. The Brazilians do not seem to me observant

of nature in its details; at all events, I never get a satisfactory

answer to the question I am constantly putting, “What do you call this

tree or flower?” And if you ask a botanist, he invariably gives you the

scientific, not the popular name, nor does he seem to be aware that any

such exists. I have a due respect for nomenclature, but when I inquire

the name of some very graceful tree or some exquisite flower, I like to

receive a manageable answer, something that may fitly be introduced into

the privacy of domestic life, rather than the ponderous official Latin

appellation. We are struck with the variety of Melastomas in full flower

now, and very conspicuous, from their large purple blossoms, and have

remarked also several species of the Bombaceæ, easily distinguished by

their peculiar foliage and large cotton fruits. The Candelabra-tree

(Cecropia) is abundant here, as throughout the neighborhood of Rio, and

is covered at this season with fruit resembling somewhat the fruit of

the bread-tree, but more slender and cylindrical in form. Large

Euphorbias, of the size of forest-trees, also attract our attention, for

it is the first time we have seen them except as shrubs, such as the

“Estrella do Norte” (Poinsettia). But there is before Mr. Bennett’s

house a very large nut-tree, “Nogueira,” of this family. The palms are

numerous; among them the Astrocaryum Cari, whose spiny stems and leaves

make it difficult to approach, is very common. Its bunches of bright

chestnut-brown fruit hang from between the leaves which form its crown,

each bunch about a foot in length, massive and compact, like a large

cluster of black Hamburg grapes. The Syagrus palm is also frequent; it

has a greenish fruit not unlike the olive in appearance, also hanging in

large pendent bunches just below the leaves. The mass of foliage is

everywhere knit together by parasitic vines without number, and every

dead branch or fallen trunk is overgrown by parasites. Foreign tropical

trees are cultivated about the houses everywhere,—bread-fruit trees and

Ameixas, a kind of plum of the hawthorn family, bananas, etc. The bamboo

of the East Indies also is used to form avenues in Rio de Janeiro and

its environs. The alleys of bamboo in the grounds of the palace at San

Christovāo are among its most beautiful ornaments.

[Illustration: Fallen Trunk overgrown by Parasites.]

Mr. Agassiz has been surprised to find that shrimps of considerable size

are common in all the brooks and even in the highest pools of Tijuca. It

seems strange to meet with Crustacea of marine forms in mountain

streams.

To-day we are kept in the house by a violent rain, but there is enough

to do in looking over specimens, working up journals, writing letters,

&c., to prevent the time from hanging heavy on our hands. To-morrow we

return to town.

_May 28th_, RIO.—To-day is Mr. Agassiz’s birthday, and it has been so

affectionately remembered here that it is difficult to believe ourselves

in a foreign country. The Swiss citizens gave him a dinner yesterday on

the eve of the anniversary, where everything recalled the land of his

birth, without excluding the land of his adoption. The room was draped

with the flags of all the Cantons, while the ceiling was covered by two

Swiss national flags, united in the centre just above his own seat by

the American flag, thus recognizing at once his Swiss nationality and

his American citizenship.[33] The Brazilian flag which gave them all

hospitality and protection had also an honored place. The fête is

reported to have been most genial and gay, closing with a number of

student songs in which all bore their share, and succeeded by a serenade

under our windows. To-day our room is festive with flowers and other

decorations, and friendly greetings on every side remind us that, though

in a foreign land, we are not among strangers.

_June 14th._—Since our return from Tijuca we have been almost constantly

in town, Mr. Agassiz being engaged, often from early morning till deep

into the night, in taking care of the specimens which come in from every

quarter, and making the final preparations for the parties which he

intends sending into the interior. The most important of these, or

rather the one for which it is most difficult to procure the necessary

facilities, is bound for the upper course of the San Francisco. At this

point one or more of their number will strike across the country to the

Tocantins, and descend that river to the Amazons, while the others will

follow the valley of the Piauhy to the coast. This is a long, difficult,

but, as we are assured, not a dangerous journey for young and vigorous

men. But wishing to anticipate every trouble that may befall them, Mr.

Agassiz has made it his business to ascertain, as far as possible, the

nature of the route, and to obtain letters to the most influential

people for every step of the road. This has been no light task; in a

country where there are no established means of internal communication,

where mules, guides, camaradas, and even an armed escort may be

necessary, and must be provided for in advance, the preparation for a

journey through the interior requires a vast deal of forethought. Add to

this the national habit of procrastination, the profound conviction of

the Brazilian that to-morrow is better than to-day, and one may

understand how it happens that, although it has been a primary object

since our arrival to expedite the party to the Tocantins, their

departure has been delayed till now. And yet it would be the height of

ingratitude to give the impression that there has been any backwardness

on the part of the Brazilians themselves, or of their government, to

facilitate the objects of the expedition. On the contrary, they not only

show a warm interest, but the utmost generosity, and readiness to give

all the practical aid in their power. Several leading members of the

Cabinet, the Senate, and the House of Representatives have found time

now, when they have a war upon their hands, and when one ministry has

been going out and another coming in, not only to prepare the necessary

introductions for these parties from Rio to the Amazons, but also to

write out the routes, giving the most important directions and

information for the separate journeys.[34] Yet with the best will in the

world the Brazilians know comparatively little of the interior of their

own country. It is necessary to collect all that is known from a variety

of sources, and then to combine it as well as may be, so as to form an

organized plan. Even then a great deal must be left to be decided in

accordance with circumstances which no one can foresee. No pains have

been spared to anticipate all the probable difficulties, and to provide

for them as far as it is humanly possible to do so; and we feel that

this journey, a part of which has been made by very few persons before,

has never been undertaken under better auspices. This party will explore

the upper course of the Rio Doce, the Rio das Velhas, and the San

Francisco, with the lower course of the Tocantins and its tributaries,

as far as they can; making also collections of fossils in certain

regions upon the route. Another party, starting at about the same time,

is to keep nearer the coast, exploring the lower course of the Rio Doce

and the San Francisco. Mr. Agassiz thus hopes to make at least a partial

survey of this great water system, while he himself undertakes the

Amazons and its tributaries.[35] In the mean time, the result of the

weeks he has been obliged to spend in Rio, while organizing the work of

these parties and making the practical arrangements for its prosecution,

has been very satisfactory. The collections are large, and will give a

tolerably complete idea of the fauna of this province, as well as a part

of that of Minas Geräes. A survey of the Dom Pedro Railroad, made under

his direction by his two young friends, Messrs. Hart and St. John, is

also an excellent beginning of the work in this department, and his own

observations on the drift phenomena have an important bearing on the

great questions on which he hoped to throw new light in coming here. The

closing words of a lecture delivered by him last evening at the Collegio

Dom Pedro Segundo will best express his own estimation of the facts he

has collected in their bearing on the drift phenomena in other parts of

the world. After giving some account of the erratic blocks and drift

observed by him at Tijuca and already described in his letter to Mr.

Peirce, he added: “I wish here to make a nice distinction that I may not

be misunderstood. I _affirm_ that the erratic phenomena, viz. erratic

drift, in immediate superposition with partially decomposed stratified

rock, exist here in your immediate neighborhood; I _believe_ that these

phenomena are connected, here as elsewhere, with the action of ice. It

is nevertheless possible that a more intimate study of these subjects in

tropical regions may reveal some phase of the phenomena not hitherto

observed, just as the investigation of the glacial action in the United

States has shown that immense masses of ice may move over a plain, as

well as over a mountain slope. Let me now urge a special study of these

facts upon the young geologists of Rio, as they have never been

investigated and their presence is usually denied. If you ask me, ‘To

what end?—of what use is such a discovery?’—I answer, It is given to no

mortal man to predict what may be the result of any discovery in the

realms of nature. When the electric current was discovered, what was it?

A curiosity. When the first electric machine was invented, to what use

was it put? To make puppets dance for the amusement of children. To-day

it is the most powerful engine of civilization. But should our work have

no other result than this,—to know that certain facts in nature are thus

and not otherwise, that their causes were such and no others,—this

result in itself is good enough, and great enough, since the end of man,

his aim, his glory, is the knowledge of the truth.”

One word upon these lectures, since we are told by the Brazilians

themselves that the introduction of public lectures among them is a

novelty and in a certain sense an era in their educational history. If

any subject of science or letters is to be presented to the public here,

it is done under special conditions before a selected audience, where

the paper is read in presence of the Emperor with all due solemnity.

Popular instruction, with admittance for all who care to listen or to

learn, has been hitherto a thing unknown. The suggestion was made by Dr.

Pacheco, the Director of the Collegio Dom Pedro II., a man of liberal

culture and great intelligence, who has already done much for the

progress of education in Rio de Janeiro; it found favor with the

Emperor, who is keenly alive to anything which can stimulate the love of

knowledge among his people, and at his request Mr. Agassiz has given a

course of lectures in French on a variety of scientific subjects. He was

indeed very glad to have an opportunity of introducing here a means of

popular education which he believes to have been very salutary in its

influence among us. At first the presence of ladies was objected to, as

too great an innovation on national habits; but even that was overcome,

and the doors were opened to all comers, the lectures being given after

the true New England fashion. I must say that, if the absolutely

uninterrupted attention of an audience is any test of its intelligence,

no man could ask a better one than that which Mr. Agassiz has had the

pleasure of addressing in Rio de Janeiro. It has also been a great

pleasure to him, after teaching for nearly twenty years in English, to

throw off the fetters of a foreign tongue and speak again in French.

After all, with a few exceptions, a man’s native language remains for

him the best; it is the element in which he always moves most at ease.

The Emperor, with his family, has been present at all these lectures,

and it is worthy of note, as showing the simplicity of his character,

that, instead of occupying the raised platform intended for them, he

caused the chairs to be placed on a level with the others, as if to show

that in science at least there is no distinction of rank.[36]

_June 11th._—To-day has been a festa, but one the significance of which

it is somewhat difficult to understand, so singularly is the religious

element mingled with the grotesque and quaint. In the Church it is the

feast of Corpus Christi, but it happens to fall on the same date as

another festival in honor of St. George, which is kept with all sorts of

antique ceremonies. I went in the morning with our young friend, Mr.

T——, to the Imperial chapel, where high mass was celebrated, and at the

close of the services we had some difficulty in finding our way back to

the hotel, before which the procession was to pass, for the street was

already draped with all sorts of gay colors and crowded with spectators.

First in order came the religious part of the procession; a long array

of priests and church officials carrying lighted candles, pyramids of

flowers, banners, &c. Then came the host, under a canopy of white satin

and gold, supported by massive staffs; the bearers were the highest

dignitaries of the land, first among them being the Emperor himself and

his son-in-law, the Duke of Saxe. In strange contrast with these

solemnities was the stuffed equestrian figure of St. George, a huge,

unwieldy shape on horseback, preceded and followed by riders almost as

grotesque as himself. With him came a number of orders resembling, if

not the same as, the Free-Masons, the Odd Fellows, and like societies.

The better educated Brazilians speak of this procession as an old legacy

from Portugal, which has lost its significance for them, and which they

would gladly see pass out of use, as it is already out of date.

This evening Mr. Agassiz gave the closing lecture of his course. It is

to be followed next week by a lecture from Dr. Capanema, the Brazilian

geologist, and there will be an attempt made to organize courses of

public lectures on the same plan hereafter. Our numbers are gradually

diminishing. Last week the party for the interior, consisting of Messrs.

St. John, Allen, Ward, and Sceva, started, and Messrs. Hartt and

Copeland leave in a day or two to undertake an exploration of the coast

between the Parahyba do Sul and Bahia.

_June 30th._—On the 21st we left Rio on our way to the province of Minas

Geräes, where we were to pass a week at the coffee fazenda of Senhor

Lage, who received us so courteously on our former visit to Juiz de

Fora, and who was so influential in projecting and carrying out the

Union and Industry road. The journey to Juiz de Fora, though we had made

it once before, had lost nothing of its beauty by familiarity, and had

gained in interest of another kind; for his examination of the erratic

drift at Tijuca has given Mr. Agassiz the key to the geological

constitution of the soil, and what seemed to him quite inexplicable on

our first excursion over this road is now perfectly legible. It is

interesting to watch the progress of an investigation of this character,

and to see how the mental process gradually clears away the obscurity.

The perception becomes sharpened by dwelling upon the subject, and the

mind adapts itself to a difficult problem as the eye adapts itself to

darkness. That which was confused at first presently becomes clear to

the mental vision of the observer, who watches and waits for the light

to enter. There is one effect of the atmospheric influence here, already

alluded to in the previous pages, which at first sight is very

deceptive. Wherever there is any cut through drift, unless recently

opened, it becomes baked at the surface so as to simulate stone in such

a way as hardly to be distinguished from the decomposed rock surfaces in

place, unless by a careful examination. This, together with the partial

obliteration of the stratification in many places, makes it, at first

glance, difficult to recognize the point of contact between the

stratified rock and the drift resting above it. A little familiarity

with these deceptive appearances, however, makes it as easy to read the

broken leaves of the book of nature here as elsewhere, and Mr. Agassiz

has now no more difficulty in following the erratic phenomena in these

Southern regions than in the Northern hemisphere. All that is wanting to

complete the evidence of the actual presence of ice here, in former

times, is the glacial writing, the striæ and furrows and polish which

mark its track in the temperate zone. These one can hardly hope to find

where the rock is of so perishable a character and its disintegration so

rapid. But this much is certain,—a sheet of drift covers the country,

composed of a homogeneous paste without trace of stratification,

containing loose materials of all sorts and sizes, imbedded in it

without reference to weight, large boulders, smaller stones, pebbles,

and the like. This drift is very unevenly distributed; sometimes rising

into high hills, owing to the surrounding denudations; sometimes

covering the surface merely as a thin layer; sometimes, and especially

on steep slopes, washed completely away, leaving the bare face of the

rock; sometimes deeply gullied, so as to produce a succession of

depressions and elevations alternating with each other. To this latter

cause is due, in great degree, the billowy, undulating character of the

valleys. Another cause of difficulty in tracing the erratic phenomena

consists in the number of detached fragments which have fallen from the

neighboring heights. It is not always easy to distinguish these from the

erratic boulders. But a number of localities exist, nevertheless, where

the drift rests immediately above stratified rock, with the boulders

protruding from it, the line of contact being perfectly distinct. It is

a curious fact, that one may follow the drift everywhere in this region

by the prosperous coffee plantations. Here as elsewhere ice has been the

great fertilizer,—a gigantic plough grinding the rocks to powder and

making a homogeneous soil in which the greatest variety of chemical

elements are brought together from distant localities. So far as we have

followed these phenomena in the provinces of Rio and Minas Geräes, the

thriving coffee plantations are upon erratic drift, the poorer growth

upon decomposed rock in place. Upon remarking this, we were told that

the farmers who are familiar with the soil select that in which they

find loose rocks imbedded, because it is the most fertile. They

unconsciously seek the erratic drift. It may not be amiss to point out

some of the localities in which these geological phenomena may be most

readily studied, since they lie along the public road, and are easy of

access. The drift is very evident in the swamp between Mauá and Raiz da

Serra on the way to Petropolis. In ascending the Serra at the half-way

house there is an excellent locality for observing drift and boulders;

and beyond one may follow the drift up to the very top of the road. The

whole tract between Villa Theresa and Petropolis is full of drift. Just

outside of Petropolis, the Piabanha has excavated its bed in drift,

while the banks have been ravined by the rains. At the station of

Correio, in front of the building, is also an admirable opportunity for

observing all the erratic phenomena, for here the drift, with large

boulders interspersed throughout the mass, overlies the rock in place. A

few steps to the north of the station Pedro do Rio there is another

great accumulation of large boulders in drift. These are but a few of

the localities where such facts may be observed.

On the evening of the 22d we arrived at Juiz de Fora, and started at

sunrise the next morning for the fazenda of Senhor Lage, some thirty

miles beyond. We had a gay party, consisting of the family of Senhor

Lage and that of his brother-in-law, Senhor Machado, with one or two

other friends and ourselves. The children were as merry as possible, for

a visit to the fazenda was a rarity, and looked upon by them as a great

festivity. To transport us all with our luggage, two large coaches were

provided, several mules, and a small carriage, while a travelling

photographic machine, belonging to Senhor Machado, who is an admirable

photographist, brought up the rear.[37] The day was beautiful and our

road lay along the side of the Serra, commanding fine views of the

inland country and the coffee plantations which covered the hillsides

wherever the primeval forest had been cut down. The road is another

evidence of the intelligence and energy of the proprietor. The old roads

are mere mule tracks up one side of the Serra and down the other,

gullied of course by all the heavy rains and rendered at times almost

impassable. Senhor Lage has shown his neighbors what may be done for

their comfort in a country life by abandoning the old method, and,

instead of carrying the road across the mountain, cutting it in the side

with so gradual an ascent as to make the ride a very easy one. It is but

a four hours’ drive now from Juiz de Fora to the fazenda, whereas, until

the last year, it was a day’s, or even in bad weather a two days’

journey on horseback. It is much to be desired that his example should

be followed, for the absence of any tolerable roads in the country makes

travelling in the interior almost an impossibility, and is the most

serious obstacle to the general progress and prosperity. It seems

strange that the governments of the different provinces, at least of the

more populous ones, such as Minas Geräes and Rio, should not organize a

system of good highways for the greater facility of commerce. The

present mode of transportation on mule back is slow and cumbrous in the

highest degree; it would seem as if, where the produce of the interior

is so valuable, good roads would pay for themselves very soon.

[Illustration: Fazenda de Santa Anna in Minas Geraës.]

At about eleven o’clock we arrived at the “Fazenda,” the long, low,

white buildings of which enclosed an oblong, open space divided into

large squares, where the coffee was drying. Only a part of this

extensive building is occupied as the living rooms of the family; the

rest is devoted to all sorts of objects connected with the care of the

coffee, provision for the negroes, and the like.

When we reached the plantation the guests had not all arrived. The

special occasion of this excursion to the fazenda was the festival of

San João, kept always with great ceremonies in the country; the whole

week was to be devoted to hunting, and Senhor Lage had invited all the

best sportsmen in the neighborhood to join in the chase. It will be seen

in the end that these hunters formed themselves into a most valuable

corps of collectors for Mr. Agassiz. After an excellent breakfast we

started on horseback for the forest with such of the company as had

already assembled. The ride through the dense, deep, quiet wood was

beautiful; and the dead pause when some one thought the game was near,

the hushed voices, the breathless waiting for the shot which announced

success or failure, only added a charm to the scene. They have a strange

way of hunting here; as the forest is perfectly impenetrable, they

scatter food in a cleared space for the animals, and build green

screens, leaving holes to look through; behind such a screen the hunter

waits and watches for hours perhaps, till the paca, or peccary, or

capivara steals out to feed. The ladies dismounted and found a cool seat

in one of these forest lodges, where they waited for the hunt. No great

success, after all, this afternoon, but some birds which were valuable

as specimens. We rode home in the evening to a late dinner, after which

an enormous bonfire, built by the negroes in honor of the Eve of St.

João, was lighted in front of the house. The scene was exceedingly

picturesque, the whole establishment, the neighboring negro huts, and

the distant forest being illuminated by the blaze, around which the

blacks were dancing, accompanying their wild gestures with song and

drum. Every now and then a burst of fireworks added new brightness to

the picture.

The next day, the 24th, began with a long ride on horseback before

breakfast, after which I accompanied Mr. Agassiz on a sort of

exploration among the Cupim nests (the nests of the Termites). These are

mounds sometimes three or four or even six feet high, and from two to

three or four feet in diameter, of an extraordinary solidity, almost as

hard as rock. Senhor Lage sent with us several negroes carrying axes to

split them open, which, with all their strength, proved no easy task.

These nests appear usually to have been built around some old trunk or

root as a foundation; the interior, with its endless serpentine

passages, looked not unlike the convolutions of a meandrina or brain

coral; the walls of the passages seemed to be built of earth that had

been chewed or kneaded in some way, giving them somewhat the consistency

of paper. The interior was quite soft and brittle, so that as soon as

the negroes could break through the outer envelope, about six inches in

thickness, the whole structure readily fell to pieces. It had no opening

outside, but we found, on uprooting one of these edifices from the

bottom, that the whole base was perforated with holes leading into the

ground beneath. The interior of all of them swarmed with the different

kinds of inhabitants; the little white ones, the larger black ones with

brown heads and powerful forceps, and in each were found one or two very

large swollen white ones, quite different in dimensions and appearance

from the rest, probably the queens. With the assistance of the negroes,

Mr. Agassiz made, for future examination, a large collection of all the

different kinds of individuals thus living together in various numeric

proportions, and he would gladly have carried away one of the nests, but

they are too cumbersome for transportation. The Cupim nests are very

different from the dwellings of the Sauba ants, which have large

external openings. The latter make houses by excavating, and sometimes

undermine a hill so extensively, with their long galleries, that when a

fire is lighted at one of the entrances to exterminate them, the smoke

issues at numerous openings, distant perhaps a quarter of a mile from

each other, showing in how many directions they have tunnelled out the

hill, and that their winding passages communicate with each other

throughout. So many travellers have given accounts of these ant-houses,

and of the activity of their inhabitants in stripping and carrying off

the leaves of trees to deposit them in their habitations, that it hardly

seems worth while to repeat the story. Yet no one can see without

astonishment one of these ant-armies travelling along the road they have

worn so neatly for themselves, those who are coming from the trees

looking like a green procession, almost hidden by the fragments of

leaves they carry on their backs, while the returning troops, who have

already deposited their burden, are hurrying back for more. There seems

to be another set of individuals running to and fro, whose office is not

quite so clear, unless it be to marshal the whole swarm and act as a

kind of police. This view is confirmed by an anecdote related by an

American resident here, who told us that he once saw an ant, returning

without his load to the house, stopped by one of these anomalous

individuals, severely chastised and sent back to the tree apparently to

do his appointed task. The Sauba ants are very injurious to the coffee

shrubs, and difficult to exterminate.[38]

In the afternoon, the hunters of the neighborhood began to come in and

the party was considerably enlarged. This fazenda life, at least on an

informal jovial occasion like this, has a fascinating touch of the

Middle Ages in it. I am always reminded of this when we assemble for

dinner in the large dimly lighted hall, where a long table, laden with

game and with large haunches of meat, stands ready for the miscellaneous

company, daily growing in numbers. At the upper end sit the family with

their immediate guests; below, with his family, is the “Administrador,”

whose office I suppose corresponds to that of overseer on a Southern

plantation. In this instance he is a large picturesque-looking man,

generally equipped in a kind of gray blouse strapped around the waist by

a broad black belt, in which are powder-flask and knife, with a bugle

slung over his shoulder, a slouched hat, and high top-boots. During

dinner a number of chance cavaliers drop in, entirely without ceremony,

in hunter’s costume, as they return from the chase. Then at night, or

rather early in the morning, (for the Brazilian habit is “early to bed

and early to rise,” in order to avoid the heat,) what jollity and song,

sounding the bugles long before the dawn, twanging the guitar and

whistling on the peculiar instrument used here to call the game.

Altogether it is the most novel and interesting collection of social

elements, mingling after a kind of picnic fashion without the least

formality, and we feel every day how much we owe to our kind hosts for

admitting us to an occasion where one sees so much of what is national

and characteristic. The next day we went to breakfast at a smaller

fazenda belonging also to Senhor Lage, higher up on the Serra da

Babylonia. Again, starting before sunrise, we went slowly up the

mountain, the summit of which is over 3,000 feet above the sea level. We

were preceded by the “liteira,” a queer kind of car slung between two

mules, in which rode the grandmamma and the baby; as carriages are

impossible on these mountain roads, some such conveyance is necessary

for those who are too old or too young for horseback travelling. The

view was lovely, the morning cool and beautiful, and after a two hours’

ride we arrived at the upper fazenda. Here we left our horses and went

on foot into the forest, where the ladies and children wandered about,

gathering flowers and exploring the wood walks, while the gentlemen

occupied themselves with fishing and hunting till midday, when we

returned to the house to breakfast. The result of the chase was a

monkey, two caititú (wild pigs), and a great variety of birds, all of

which went to swell the scientific collections.[39] We returned to dine

at the lower fazenda, and all retired soon after, for the next day the

great hunt of the week would take place, and we were to be early astir.

At dawn the horses were at the door, and we were mounting the Serra

before sunrise. We were bound to a fazenda on the Serra da Babylonia,

some two leagues from the one at which we were staying, and on higher

ground, too high indeed for the culture of coffee, and devoted to

pasture land. It is here that Senhor Lage has his horses and cattle. The

ride along the zigzag road winding up the Serra was delightful in the

early morning. The clouds were flushed with the dawn; the distant hills

and the forest, spreading endlessly beneath us, glowed in the sunrise.

The latter part of the road lay mostly through the woods, and brought us

out, after some two hours’ ride, on the brow of a hill overlooking a

small lake, sunk in a cuplike depression of the mountain, just beyond

which was the fazenda. The scenic effect was very pretty, for the border

of the lake was ornamented with flags, and on its waters floated a

little miniature steamer with the American flag at one end and the

Brazilian at the other. Our host invited us to ride in at the gate of

the fazenda, in advance of the rest of our cavalcade, a request which we

understood when, as we passed the entrance, the little steamer put into

shore, and, firing a salute in our honor, showed its name, AGASSIZ, in

full. It was a pleasant surprise very successfully managed. After the

little excitement of this incident was over, we went to the house to tie

up our riding-habits and prepare for the woods. We then embarked in the

newly-christened boat and crossed the lake to a forest on the other

side. Here were rustic tables and seats arranged under a tent where we

were to breakfast; but while the meal was making ready and a fire

building for the boiling of coffee, the stewing of chicken, rice, and

other creature comforts, we wandered at will in the wood. This was the

most beautiful, because the wildest and most primitive, specimen of

tropical forest we have yet seen. I think no description prepares one

for the difference between this forest and our own, even though the

latter be the “forest primeval.” It is not merely the difference of the

vegetation, but the impenetrability of the mass here that makes the

density, darkness, and solemnity of the woods so impressive. It seems as

if the mode of growth—many of the trees shooting up to an immense

height, but branching only toward the top—were meant to give room to the

legion of parasites, sipos, lianas, and climbing plants of all kinds

which fill the intervening spaces. There is one fact which makes the

study of the tropical forest as interesting to the geologist as to the

botanist, namely, its relation to the vegetable world of past ages

hidden in the rocks. The tree-ferns, the Chamærops, the Pandanus, the

Araucarias, are all modern representatives of past types, and this walk

in the forest was an important one to Mr. Agassiz, because he made out

one of those laws of growth which unite the past and the present. The

Chamærops is a palm belonging to the ancient vegetable world, but having

its representatives in our days. The modern Chamærops, with its fan-like

leaves spreading on one level, stands structurally lower than the Palms

with pinnate leaves, which belong almost exclusively to our geological

age, and have numerous leaflets arranged along either side of a central

axis. The young Palms were exceedingly numerous, springing up at every

step upon our path, some of them not more than two inches high, while

their elders towered fifty feet above them. Mr. Agassiz gathered and

examined great numbers of them, and found that the young Palms, to

whatever genus they may belong, invariably resemble the Chamærops,

having their leaves extending fan-like on one plane, instead of being

scattered along a central axis, as in the adult tree. The infant Palm is

in fact the mature Chamærops in miniature, showing that among plants as

among animals, at least in some instances, there is a correspondence

between the youngest stages of growth in the higher species of a given

type and the earliest introduction of that type on earth.[40]

At the close of our ramble, from which the Professor returned looking

not unlike an ambulatory representative of tropical vegetation, being

loaded down with palm-branches, tree-ferns, and the like, we found

breakfast awaiting us. Some of our party were missing, however, the

hunters having already taken their stations at some distance near the

water. The game was an Anta (Tapir), a curious animal, abounding in the

woods of this region. It has a special interest for the naturalist,

because it resembles certain ancient mammalia now found only among the

fossils, just as the tree-fern, Chamærops, &c. resemble past vegetable

types. Although Mr. Agassiz had seen it in confinement, he had a great

desire to observe it in action under its natural condition, and in the

midst of a tropical forest as characteristic of old geological times as

the creature itself. It was, in fact, to gratify this desire that Mr.

Lage had planned the hunt. “L’homme propose et Dieu dispose,” however,

and, as the sequel will show, we were not destined to see an Anta this

day. The forest being, as I have said, impenetrable to the hunter,

except where paths have been cut, the game is roused by sending the dogs

into the wood, the sportsmen stationing themselves at certain distances

on the outskirts. The Anta has his haunts near lakes or rivers, and when

wearied and heated with the chase he generally makes for the water, and,

springing in, is shot as he swims across. As we were lingering over the

breakfast-table we heard the shout of Anta! Anta! In an instant every

man sprang to his gun and ran down to the water-side, while we all stood

waiting, listening to the cries of the dogs, now frantic with

excitement, and expecting every moment the rush of the hunted animal and

his spring into the lake. But it was a false alarm; the cries of the

dogs died away in the distance: the day was colder than usual, the Anta

turned back from the water, and, leading his pursuers a weary chase, was

lost in the forest. After a time the dogs returned, looking tired and

dispirited. But though we missed the Tapir, we saw enough of the sport

to understand what makes the charm to the hunter of watching for hours

in the woods, and perhaps returning, after all, empty-handed. If he does

not get the game, he has the emotion; every now and then he thinks the

creature is at hand, and he has a momentary agitation, heightened by the

cries of the dogs and the answering cry of the sportsmen, who strive to

arouse them to the utmost by their own shouts, and then if the animal

turns back into the thicket all sound dies away, and to a very

pandemonium of voices succeed the silence and solitude of the forest.

All these things have their fascination, and explain to the uninitiated,

to whom it seems at first incomprehensible, why these men will wait

motionless for hours, and think themselves repaid (as I heard one of

them declare) if they only hear the cry of the dogs and know they have

roused the game, even if there be no other result. However, in this

instance, we had plenty of other booty. The Anta lost, the hunters, who

had carefully avoided firing hitherto, lest the sounds of their guns

should give him warning, now turned their attention to lesser game, and

we rode home in the afternoon rich in spoils, though without a Tapir.