PARÁ.
Festas—Portuguese and Brazilian currency—M. Borlaz’
estate—Walk to the rice-mills—The virgin forest, its
plants and insects—Milk-tree—Saw and rice mills—Caripé or
pottery-tree—Indiarubber-tree—Flowers and trees in blossom—Saüba
ants, wasps, and chegoes—Journey by water to Magoary—The
monkeys—The commandante at Laranjeiras—Vampire bats—The
timber-trade—Boa constrictor and Sloth.
About a fortnight after our arrival at Pará there were several
holidays, or “festas,” as they are called. Those of the “Espirito
Santo” and the “Trinidade” lasted each nine days. The former was
held at the cathedral, the latter at one of the smaller churches in
the suburbs. The general character of these festas is the same, some
being more celebrated and more attractive than others. They consist of
fireworks every night before the church; Negro girls selling “doces,”
or sweetmeats, cakes, and fruit; processions of saints and crucifixes;
the church open, with regular services; kissing of images and relics;
and a miscellaneous crowd of Negroes and Indians, all dressed in white,
thoroughly enjoying the fun, and the women in all the glory of their
massive gold chains and earrings. Besides these, a number of the higher
classes and foreign residents grace the scene with their presence;
showy processions are got up at the commencement and termination, and
on the last evening a grand display of fireworks takes place, which is
generally provided by some person who is chosen or volunteers to be
“Juiz da festa,” or governor of the feast,—a rather expensive honour
among people who, not content with an unlimited supply of rockets at
night, amuse themselves by firing off great quantities during the day
for the sake of the whiz and the bang that accompany them. The rockets
are looked upon as quite a part of the religious ceremony: on asking
an old Negro why they were let off in the morning, he looked up to the
sky and answered very gravely, “Por Deos” (for God). Music, noise, and
fireworks are the three essentials to please a Brazilian populace; and
for a fortnight we had enough of them, for besides the above-mentioned
amusements, they fire off guns, pistols, and cannon from morning to
night.
After many inquiries, we at last succeeded in procuring a house to suit
us. It was situated at Nazaré, about a mile and a half south of the
city, just opposite a pretty little chapel. Close behind, the forest
commences, and there are many good localities for birds, insects, and
plants in the neighbourhood. The house consisted of a ground-floor of
four rooms, with a verandah extending completely round it, affording
a rather extensive and very pleasant promenade. The grounds contained
oranges and bananas, and a great many forest and fruit trees, with
coffee and mandiocca plantations. We were to pay twenty milreis a
month rent (equal to £2. 5_s._), which is very dear for Pará, but we
could get no other house so convenient. Isidora took possession of an
old mud-walled shed as the domain of his culinary operations; we worked
and took our meals in the verandah, and seldom used the inner rooms but
as sleeping apartments.
We now found much less difficulty in mustering up sufficient Portuguese
to explain our various wants. We were some time getting into the use
of the Portuguese, or rather Brazilian, money, which is peculiar and
puzzling. It consists of paper, silver, and copper. The rey is the unit
or standard, but the milrey, or thousand reis, is the value of the
lowest note, and serves as the unit in which accounts are kept; so that
the system is a decimal one, and very easy, were it not complicated by
several other coins, which are used in reckoning; as the vintem, which
is twenty reis, the patac, three hundred and twenty, and the crusado,
four hundred, in all of which coins sums of money are often reckoned,
which is puzzling to a beginner, because the patac is not an integral
part of the milrey (three patacs and two vintems making a milrey),
and the Spanish dollars which are current here are worth six patacs.
The milrey was originally worth 5_s._ 7½_d._, but now fluctuates from
2_s._ 1_d._ to 2_s._ 4_d._, or not quite half, owing probably to the
over-issue of paper and its inconvertibility into coin. The metallic
currency, being then of less nominal than real value, would soon have
been melted down, so it became necessary to increase its value. This
was done by restamping it and making it pass for double. Thus a vintem
restamped is two vintems; a patac with 160 on it counts for 320 reis;
a twovintem piece counts for four. The newer coinage also having been
diminished in size with the depreciation of the currency, there has
arisen such a confusion, that the size of the coin is scarcely any
index to its value, and when two pieces are of exactly the same size
one may be double the value of the other. An accurate examination of
each coin is therefore necessary, which renders the making up of a
large sum a matter requiring much practice and attention.
There were living on the premises three Negroes who had the care of the
coffee- and fruit-trees, and of the mandiocca field. The principal one,
named Vincente, was a fine stout handsome Negro, who was celebrated
as a catcher of “bichos,” as they here call all insects, reptiles,
and small animals. He soon brought us in several insects. One was
a gigantic hairy spider, a _Mygale_, which he skilfully dug out of
its hole in the earth, and caught in a leaf. He told us he was once
bitten by one, and was bad some time. When questioned on the matter,
he said the “bicho” was “muito mal” (very bad), and concluded with an
expressive “whew-w-w,” which just answers to a schoolboy’s “Aint it
though?” and intimates that there can be no doubt at all about the
matter. It seems probable therefore that this insect is not armed in
vain with such powerful fangs, but is capable of inflicting with them
an envenomed wound.
During one of our exploratory rambles we came upon the country-house
of a French gentleman, M. Borlaz, who is Swiss Consul in Pará. Much to
our surprise he addressed us in English, and then showed us round his
grounds, and pointed out to us the paths in the woods we should find
most practicable. The vegetation here on the banks of the river, a mile
below Pará, was very rich. The Miriti (_Mauritia flexuosa_), a fine
fan-palm, and a slender species, the Marajá (_Bactris Maraja_), a small
prickly tree which bears a fruit with a thin outer pulp, of a pleasant
subacid taste, were both abundant. A mass of cactus, thirty feet high,
grew near the house, having a most tropical aspect, but this was
planted. The thickets were full of curious _Bromeliaceæ_ and _Arums_,
and many singular trees and shrubs, and in their shady recesses
we captured some very fine insects. The splendid blue and orange
butterflies (_Epicalia ancea_) were abundant, settling on the leaves;
and they would repeatedly return to the same tree, and even to the same
leaf, so that, though very difficult to capture, five specimens were
taken without moving from the spot.
On our return to the house M. Borlaz treated us to some fine
fruits,—the berribee, a species of _Anona_, with a pleasant acid
custard-like pulp, the nuts of the bread-fruit roasted, very similar
to Spanish chestnuts, and plantains dried in the sun, and much
resembling figs. The situation of the house was delightful, looking
over the river to the opposite islands, yet sufficiently elevated to
be dry and healthy. The moist woods along the bank of the river were
so productive that we often afterwards availed ourselves of M. Borlaz’
kind invitation to visit his grounds whenever we felt disposed. As
an instance of the voracity of the ants, I may mention that, having
laid down my collecting-box in the verandah during half an hour’s
conversation, I was horrified to find, on opening it to put in a
fresh capture, that it swarmed with small red ants, who had already
separated the wings from near a dozen insects, and were dragging them
in different directions about the box; others were at the process of
dismemberment, while some had buried themselves in the plumpest bodies,
where they were enjoying a delicious repast. I had great difficulty
in making them quit their prey, and gained some useful experience at
the expense of half a successful day’s captures, including some of the
splendid _Epicalias_ which I so much prized.
On the morning of the 23rd of June we started early to walk to the
rice-mills at Magoary, which we had been invited to visit by the
proprietor, Mr. Upton, and the manager, Mr. Leavens, both American
gentlemen. At about two miles from the city we entered the virgin
forest, which the increased height of the trees and the deeper shade
had some time told us we were approaching. Its striking characteristics
were, the great number and variety of the forest-trees, their trunks
rising frequently for sixty or eighty feet without a branch, and
perfectly straight; the huge creepers, which climb about them,
sometimes stretching obliquely from their summits like the stays of
a mast, sometimes winding around their trunks like immense serpents
waiting for their prey. Here, two or three together, twisting spirally
round each other, form a complete living cable, as if to bind securely
these monarchs of the forest; there, they form tangled festoons, and,
covered themselves with smaller creepers and parasitic plants, hide the
parent stem from sight.
Among the trees the various kinds that have buttresses projecting
around their base are the most striking and peculiar. Some of these
buttresses are much longer than they are high, springing from a
distance of eight or ten feet from the base, and reaching only four or
five feet high on the trunk, while others rise to the height of twenty
or thirty feet, and can even be distinguished as ribs on the stem to
forty or fifty. They are complete wooden walls, from six inches to
a foot thick, sometimes branching into two or three, and extending
straight out to such a distance as to afford room for a comfortable hut
in the angle between them. Large square pieces are often cut out of
them to make paddles, and for other uses, the wood being generally very
light and soft.
Other trees, again, appear as if they were formed by a number of
slender stems growing together. They are deeply furrowed and ribbed for
their whole height, and in places these furrows reach quite through
them, like windows in a narrow tower, yet they run up as high as the
loftiest trees of the forest, with a straight stem of uniform diameter.
Another most curious form is presented by those which have many of
their roots high above the surface of the ground, appearing to stand on
many legs, and often forming archways large enough for a man to walk
beneath.
The stems of all these trees, and the climbers that wind or wave around
them, support a multitude of dependants. _Tillandsias_ and other
_Bromeliaceæ_, resembling wild pine-apples, large climbing _Arums_,
with their dark green arrowhead-shaped leaves, peppers in great
variety, and large-leaved ferns, shoot out at intervals all up the
stem, to the very topmost branches. Between these, creeping ferns and
delicate little species like our _Hymenophyllum_ abound, and in moist
dark places the leaves of these are again covered with minute creeping
mosses and _Jungermanniæ_,—so that we have parasites on parasites,
and on these parasites again. On looking upwards, the finely-divided
foliage, strongly defined against the clear sky, is a striking
characteristic of the tropical forests, as is repeatedly remarked by
Humboldt. Many of the largest forest-trees have leaves as delicate as
those of the trembling _Mimosa_, belonging like them to the extensive
family of the _Leguminosæ_, while the huge palmate leaves of the
_Cecropias_, and the oval glossy ones of the _Clusias_, and a hundred
others of intermediate forms, afford sufficient variety; and the bright
sunshine lighting up all above, while a sombre gloom reigns below, adds
to the grandeur and solemnity of the scene.
Flowers were very few and far between, a few small _Orchideæ_
and inconspicuous wayside weeds, with now and then a white- or
green-blossomed shrub, being all that we met with. On the ground many
varieties of fruits lay decaying: curiously twisted legumes like peas a
yard long, huge broad beans, nuts of various sizes and forms, and large
fruits of the pot-trees, which have lids like the utensil from which
they derive their name. The herbage consisted principally of ferns,
_Scitamineæ_, a few grasses and small creeping plants; but dead leaves
and rotten wood occupied the greater part of the surface.
We found very few insects, but almost all that we met with were new to
us. Our greatest treasure was the beautiful clear-winged butterfly,
with a bright violet patch on its lower wings, the _Hætera esmeralda_,
which we now saw and caught for the first time. Many other rare
insects were also obtained, and the gigantic blue _Morphos_ frequently
passed us, but their undulating flight baffled all our efforts at
capturing them. Of quadrupeds we saw none, and of birds but few,
though we heard enough of the latter to assure us that they were
not altogether wanting. We are inclined to think that the general
statement, that the birds of the tropics have a deficiency of song
proportionate to their brilliancy of plumage, requires to be modified.
Many of the brilliant birds of the tropics belong to families or
groups which have no song; but our most brilliantly coloured birds,
as the goldfinch and canary, are not the less musical, and there are
many beautiful little birds here which are equally so. We heard notes
resembling those of the blackbird and the robin, and one bird gave
forth three or four sweet plaintive tones that particularly attracted
our attention; while many have peculiar cries, in which words may
easily be traced by the fanciful, and which in the stillness of the
forest have a very pleasing effect.
On reaching the mills we found it was one o’clock, the interesting
objects on the road having caused us to linger for six hours on a
distance of scarcely twelve miles. We were kindly welcomed by Mr.
Leavens, who soon set before us substantial fare. After dinner we
strolled round the premises, and saw for the first time toucans
and paroquets in their native haunts. They frequent certain wild
fruit-trees, and Mr. Leavens has many specimens which he has shot,
and preserved in a manner seldom equalled. There are three mills—a
saw-mill and two for cleaning rice. One rice-mill is driven by steam,
the other two by water-power, which is obtained by damming up two
or three small streams, and thus forming extensive mill-pools. The
saw-mill was recently erected by Mr. Leavens, who is a practical
millwright. It is of the kind commonly used in the United States, and
the manner of applying the water is rather different from what we
generally see in England. There is a fall of water of about ten feet,
which, instead of being applied to an overshot or breast-wheel, is
allowed to rush out of a longitudinal aperture at the bottom, against
the narrow floats of a wheel only twenty inches in diameter, which thus
revolves with great velocity, and communicates motion by means of a
crank and connecting-rod directly to the saw, which of course makes a
double stroke to each revolution of the wheel. The expense of a large
slow-motion wheel is thus saved, as well as all the gearing necessary
for producing a sufficiently rapid motion of the saws; and the whole
having a smaller number of working parts, is much less liable to get
out of order, and requires few repairs. The platform carrying the log
is propelled on against the saw in the usual manner, but the method of
carrying it back at the end of the cut is ingenious. The water is shut
off from the main wheel, and let on at another shoot against a vertical
wheel, on the top of the upright shaft of which is a cog-wheel working
into a rack on the frame, which runs it back with great rapidity, and
in the simplest manner. One saw only is used, the various thicknesses
into which the trees are cut rendering more inconvenient.
We here saw the different kinds of timber used, both in the log and in
boards, and were told their various uses by Mr. Leavens. Some are very
hard woods resembling oak, and others lighter and less durable. What
most interested us however were several large logs of the Masseranduba,
or Milk-tree. On our way through the forest we had seen some trunks
much notched by persons who had been extracting the milk. It is one
of the noblest trees of the forest, rising with a straight stem to an
enormous height. The timber is very hard, fine-grained, and durable,
and is valuable for works which are much exposed to the weather. The
fruit is eatable and very good, the size of a small apple, and full
of a rich and very juicy pulp. But strangest of all is the vegetable
milk, which exudes in abundance when the bark is cut: it has about
the consistence of thick cream, and but for a very slight peculiar
taste could scarcely be distinguished from the genuine product of the
cow. Mr. Leavens ordered a man to tap some logs that had lain nearly
a month in the yard. He cut several notches in the bark with an axe,
and in a minute the rich sap was running out in great quantities. It
was collected in a basin, diluted with water, strained, and brought up
at tea-time and at breakfast next morning. The peculiar flavour of the
milk seemed rather to improve the quality of the tea, and gave it as
good a colour as rich cream; in coffee it is equally good. Mr. Leavens
informed us that he had made a custard of it, and that, though it had a
curious dark colour, it was very well tasted. The milk is also used for
glue, and is said to be as durable as that made use of by carpenters.
As a specimen of its capabilities in this line, Mr. Leavens showed us
a violin he had made, the belly-board of which, formed of two pieces,
he had glued together with it applied fresh from the tree without any
preparation. It had been done two years; the instrument had been in
constant use, and the joint was now perfectly good and sound throughout
its whole length. As the milk hardens by exposure to air, it becomes a
very tough, slightly elastic substance, much resembling gutta-percha;
but, not having the property of being softened by hot water, is not
likely to become so extensively useful as that article.
After leaving the wood-yard, we next visited the rice-mills, and
inspected the process by which the rice is freed from its husk. There
are several operations to effect this. The grain first passes between
two mill-stones, not cut as for grinding flour, but worked flat, and
by them the outer husk is rubbed off. It is then conveyed between two
boards of similar size and shape to the stones, set all over with stiff
iron wires about three-eighths of an inch long, so close together that
a grain of rice can just be pushed in between them. The two surfaces
very nearly touch one another, so that the rice is forced through the
spaces of the wires, which rub off the rest of the husk and polish the
grain. A quantity however is broken by this operation, so it is next
shaken through sifters of different degrees of fineness, which separate
the dust from the broken rice. The whole rice is then fanned, to blow
off the remaining dust, and finally passes between rubbers covered with
sheep-skin with the wool on, which clean it thoroughly, and render it
fit for the market. The Pará rice is remarkably fine, being equal in
quality to that of Carolina, but, owing to the carelessness with which
it is cultivated, it seldom shows so good a sample. No care is taken in
choosing seed or in preparing the ground; and in harvesting, a portion
is cut green, because there are not hands enough to get it in quickly
when it is ripe, and rice is a grain which rapidly falls out of the ear
and is wasted. It is therefore seldom cultivated on a large scale, the
greater portion being the produce of Indians and small landholders, who
bring it to the mills to sell.
In the morning, after a refreshing shower-bath under the mill-feeder,
we shouldered our guns, insect-nets, and pouches, and, accompanied
by Mr. Leavens, took a walk into the forest. On our way we saw the
long-toed jacanas on the river-side, Bemteví[1] flycatchers on the
branches of every bare tree, and toucans flying with outstretched
bills to their morning repast. Their peculiar creaking note was often
heard, with now and then the loud tapping of the great woodpeckers, and
the extraordinary sounds uttered by the howling monkeys, all telling
us plainly that we were in the vast forests of tropical America. We
were not successful in shooting, but returned with a good appetite to
our coffee and masseranduba milk, pirarucú, and eggs. The pirarucú is
the dried fish which, with farinha, forms the chief subsistence of
the native population, and in the interior is often the only thing to
be obtained, so we thought it as well to get used to it at once. It
resembles in appearance nothing eatable, looking as much like a dry
cowhide grated up into fibres and pressed into cakes, as anything I can
compare it with. When eaten, it is boiled or slightly roasted, pulled
to pieces, and mixed with vinegar, oil, pepper, onions, and farinha,
and altogether forms a very savoury mess for a person with a good
appetite and a strong stomach.
[1] “Bemteví” (I saw you well); the bird’s note resembles this word.
After breakfast, we loaded our old Negro (who had come with us to
show the way) with plants that we had collected, and a basket to hold
anything interesting we might meet with on the road, and set out to
walk home, promising soon to make a longer visit. We reached Nazaré
with boxes full of insects, and heads full of the many interesting
things we had seen, among which the milk-giving tree, supplying us with
a necessary of life from so new and strange a source, held a prominent
place.
Wishing to obtain specimens of a tree called Caripé, the bark of
which is used in the manufacture of the pottery of the country, we
inquired of Isidora if he knew such a tree, and where it grew. He
replied that he knew the tree very well, but that it grew in the
forest a long way off. So one fine morning after breakfast we told
him to shoulder his axe and come with us in search of the Caripé,—he
in his usual dishabille of a pair of trowsers,—shirt, hat, and shoes
being altogether dispensed with in this fine climate; and we in our
shirt-sleeves, and with our hunting apparatus across our shoulders. Our
old conductor, though now following the domestic occupation of cook
and servant of all work to two foreign gentlemen, had worked much in
the forest, and was well acquainted with the various trees, could tell
their names, and was learned in their uses and properties. He was of
rather a taciturn disposition, except when excited by our exceeding
dulness in understanding what he wanted, when he would gesticulate with
a vehemence and perform dumb-show with a minuteness worthy of a more
extensive audience; yet he was rather fond of displaying his knowledge
on a subject of which we were in a state of the most benighted
ignorance, and at the same time quite willing to learn. His method of
instruction was by a series of parenthetical remarks on the trees as he
passed them, appearing to speak rather to them than to us, unless we
elicited by questions further information.
“This,” he would say, “is Ocöóba, very good medicine, good for
sore-throat,” which he explained by going through the action of
gargling, and showed us that a watery sap issued freely on the bark
being cut. The tree, like many others, was notched all over by the
number of patients who came for the healing juice. “This,” said he,
glancing at a magnificent tall straight tree, “is good wood for houses,
good for floors; call it Quaröóba.” “This,” pointing to one of the
curious furrowed trees that look as if a bundle of enormously long
sticks had grown into one mass, “is wood for making paddles;” and,
as we did not understand this in Portuguese, he imitated rowing in a
canoe; the name of this was Pootiéka. “This,” pointing to another large
forest-tree, “is good wood for burning, to make charcoal; good hard
wood for everything,—makes the best charcoal for forges,” which he
explained by intimating that the wood made the fire to make the iron of
the axe he held in his hand. This tree rejoiced in the name of Nowará.
Next came the Caripé itself, but it was a young tree with neither fruit
nor flowers, so we had to content ourselves with specimens of the wood
and bark only; it grew on the edge of a swamp filled with splendid
palm-trees. Here the Assai Palm, so common about the city, reached an
enormous height. With a smooth stem only four inches in diameter, some
specimens were eighty feet high. Sometimes they are perfectly straight,
sometimes gently curved, and, with the drooping crowns of foliage, are
most beautiful. Here also grew the Inajá, a fine thick-stemmed species,
with a very large dense head of foliage. The undeveloped leaves of
this as well as many other kinds form an excellent vegetable, called
here _palmeto_, and probably very similar to that produced by the
cabbage-palm of the West Indies. A prickly-stemmed fan-leaved palm,
which we had observed at the mills, was also growing here. But the
most striking and curious of all was the Paxiuba, a tall, straight,
perfectly smooth-stemmed palm, with a most elegant head, formed of a
few large curiously-cut leaves. Its great singularity is, that the
greater part of its roots are above ground, and they successively
die away, fresh ones springing out of the stem higher up, so that
the whole tree is supported on three or four stout straight roots,
sometimes so high that a person can stand between them with the lofty
tree growing over his head. The main roots often diverge again before
they reach the ground, each into three or more smaller ones, not an
inch each in diameter. Though the stem of the tree is quite smooth,
the roots are thickly covered with large tuberculous prickles. Numbers
of small trees of a few feet high grow all around, each standing upon
its legs, a miniature copy of its parent. Isidora cut down an Assai
palm, to get some _palmeto_ for our dinner; it forms an agreeable
vegetable of a sweetish flavour. Just as we were returning, we were
startled by a quiet remark that the tree close by us was the Seringa,
or India-rubber-tree. We rushed to it, axe in hand, cut off a piece of
bark, and had the satisfaction to see the extraordinary juice come out.
Catching a little in a box I had with me, I next day found it genuine
India-rubber, of a yellowish colour, but possessing all its peculiar
properties.
It being some saint’s day, in the evening a fire was lit in the road in
front of our house, and going out we found Isidora and Vincente keeping
it up. Several others were visible in the street, and there appeared to
be a line of them reaching to the city. They seemed to be made quite as
a matter of business, being a mark of respect to certain of the more
illustrious saints, and, with rockets and processions, form the greater
part of the religion here. The glorious southern constellations, with
their crowded nebulæ, were shining brilliantly in the heavens as the
fire expired, and we turned into our hammocks well satisfied with all
that we had seen during the day.
_July 4th._—The vegetation now improved in appearance as the dry
season advanced. Plants were successively budding and bursting their
blossoms, and bright green leaves displaced the half-withered ones of
the past season. The climbers were particularly remarkable, as much
for the beauty of their foliage as for their flowers. Often two or
three climb over one tree or shrub, mingling in the most perplexing
though elegant confusion, so that it is a matter of much difficulty
to decide to which plant the different blossoms belong, and should
they be high up it is impossible. A delicate white and a fine yellow
convolvulus were now plentiful; the purple and yellow trumpet-flowers
were still among the most showy; and some noble thick-leaved climbers
mounted to the tops of trees, and sent aloft bright spikes of scarlet
flowers. Among the plants not in flower, the twin-leaved _Bauhinias_
of various forms were most frequently noticed. The species are very
numerous: some are shrubs, others delicate climbers, and one is the
most extraordinary among the extraordinary climbers of the forest, its
broad flattened woody stems being twisted in and out in a most singular
manner, mounting to the summits of the very loftiest forest-trees, and
hanging from their branches in gigantic festoons, many hundred feet
in length. A handsome pink and white _Clusia_ was now abundant, with
large shining leaves, and flowers having a powerful and very fragrant
odour. It grows not only as a good-sized tree out of the ground, but
is also parasitical on almost every other forest-tree. Its large round
whitish fruits are called “cebola braba” (wild onion), by the natives,
and are much eaten by birds, which thus probably convey the seeds
into the forks of lofty trees, where it seems most readily to take
root in any little decaying vegetable matter, dung of birds, etc.,
that may be there; and when it arrives at such a size as to require
more nourishment than it can there obtain, it sends down long shoots
to the ground, which take root, and grow into a new stem. At Nazaré
there is a tree by the road-side, out of the fork of which grows a
large Mucujá palm, and on the palm are three or four young _Clusia_
trees, which no doubt have, or will have, _Orchideæ_ and ferns again
growing upon them. A few forest-trees were also in blossom; and it was
truly a magnificent sight to behold a great tree covered with one mass
of flowers, and to hear the deep distant hum of millions of insects
gathered together to enjoy the honeyed feast. But all is out of reach
of the curious and admiring naturalist. It is only over the outside
of the great dome of verdure exposed to the vertical rays of the sun,
that flowers are produced, and on many of these trees there is not a
single blossom to be found at a less height than a hundred feet. The
whole glory of these forests could only be seen by sailing gently in
a balloon over the undulating flowery surface above: such a treat is
perhaps reserved for the traveller of a future age.
A jararáca, said to be one of the most deadly serpents in Brazil,
was killed by a Negro in our garden. It was small, and not brightly
coloured. A fine coral snake was also brought in; it was about a
yard long, and beautifully marked with black, red, and yellow bands.
Having perhaps had some experience of the lavish manner in which
foreigners pay for such things, the man had the coolness to ask two
milreis, or 4_s_. 6_d_. for it, so he had to throw it away, and got
nothing. A penny or twopence is enough to give for such things, which
are of no value to the natives; and though they will not search much
after them for such a price, yet they will bring you all that come
in their way when they know you will purchase them. Snakes were
unpleasantly abundant at this time. I nearly trod on one about ten
feet long, which rather startled me, and it too, to judge by the rapid
manner in which it glided away. I caught also a small _Amphisbena_
under the coffee-trees in our garden. Though it is known to have no
poison-fangs, the Negroes declared it was very dangerous, and that its
bite could not be cured. It is commonly known as the two-headed snake,
from the tail being blunt and the head scarcely visible; and they
believe that if it is cut in two, and the two parts thrown some yards
apart, they will come together again, and join into an entire animal.
Among the curious things we meet with in the woods are large heaps of
earth and sand, sometimes by the roadside, and sometimes extending
quite across the path, making the pedestrian ascend and descend, (a
pleasing variety in this flat country,) and looking just as if some
“Pará and Peru direct Railway Company” had commenced operations. These
mounds are often thirty or forty feet long, by ten or fifteen wide, and
about three or four feet high; but instead of being the work of a lot
of railway labourers, we find it is all due to the industry of a native
insect, the much-dreaded Saüba ant. This insect is of a light-red
colour, about the size of our largest English species, the wood-ant,
but with much more powerful jaws. It does great injury to young trees,
and will sometimes strip them of their leaves in a single night. We
often see, hurrying across the pathways, rows of small green leaves;
these are the Saübas, each with a piece of leaf cut as smoothly as with
scissors, and completely hiding the body from sight. The orange-tree
is very subject to their attacks, and in our garden the young trees
were each planted in the centre of a ring-shaped earthen vessel, which
being filled with water completely surrounded the stem, preventing the
ants from reaching it. Some places are so infested by them that it
is useless planting anything. No means of destroying them are known,
their numbers being so immense, as may readily be seen from the great
quantities of earth they remove.
Many different kinds of wasps’ and bees’ nests are constantly met
with; but we were rather shy of meddling with them. They are generally
attached to the undersides of leaves, especially of the young Tucumá
palm, which are broad, and offer a good shelter. Some are little flat
domes, with a single small opening; others have the cells all exposed.
Some have only two or three cells, others a great number. These are all
of a delicate papery substance; but some have large cylindrical nests,
on high trees, of a material like thick cardboard. Then again there are
nests in hollow trees, and others among their roots in the earth, while
the solitary species make little holes in the paths, and pierce the
mud-walls of the houses, till they appear as if riddled with shot. Many
of these insects sting very painfully; and some are so fierce, that on
their nests being approached, they will fly out and attack the unwary
passer-by. The larger kinds of wasps have very long stings, and can so
greatly extend their bodies that we were often stung when endeavouring
to secure them for our collections.
I also suffered a little from another of our insect enemies: the
celebrated _chigoe_ at length paid us a visit. I found a tender pimple
on the side of my foot, which Isidora pronounced to be a “bicho do
pé,” or chigoe; so preferring to extract it myself, I set to work with
a needle, but not being used to the operation, could not get it out
entire. I then rubbed a little snuff in the wound, and afterwards felt
no more of it. The insect is a minute flea, which burrows into the
skin of the toes, where it grows into a large bag of eggs as big as
a pea, the insect being just distinguishable as a black speck on one
side of it. When it first enters it causes a slight irritation, and
if found may then be easily extracted; but when it grows large it is
very painful, and if neglected may produce a serious wound. With care
and attention however this dreaded insect is not so annoying as the
mosquito or our own domestic flea.
Having made arrangements for another and a longer visit to Magoary,
we packed up our hammocks, nets, and boxes, and went on board a canoe
which trades regularly to the mills, bringing the rice and timber, and
taking whatever is required there. We left Pará about nine at night,
when the tide served, and at five the next morning found the vessel
lying at anchor, waiting for the flood. We were to proceed on to the
mills in a montaria, or small Indian canoe, and as we were five with
the Negroes who were to paddle, I felt rather nervous on finding that
we sank the little boat to within two inches of the water’s edge, and
that a slight motion of any one of the party would be enough to swamp
us altogether. However there was no help for it, so off we went, but
soon found that with its unusual load our boat leaked so much that we
had to keep baling by turns with a calabash all the time. This was not
very agreeable; but after a few miles we got used to it, and looked to
the safe termination of our voyage as not altogether improbable.
The picturesque and novel appearance of the river’s banks, as the
sun rose, attracted all our attention. The stream, though but an
insignificant tributary of the Amazon, was wider than the Thames. The
banks were everywhere clothed with a dense forest. In places were
numerous mangroves, their roots descending from the branches into
the water, having a curious appearance; on some we saw the fruit
germinating on the tree, sending out a shoot which would descend to the
water, and form another root to the parent. Behind these rose large
forest-trees, mingled with the Assai, Miriti, and other palms, while
passion-flowers and convolvuluses hung their festoons to the water’s
edge.
As we advanced the river became narrower, and about seven o’clock we
landed, to stretch our cramped limbs, at a sitio, where there was
a tree covered with the hanging nests of the yellow troupial, with
numbers of the birds continually flying in and out. In an hour more
we passed Larangeiras, a pretty spot, where there are a few huts, and
the residence of Senhor C., the Commandante of the district. Further
on we turned into a narrow igaripé, which wound about in the forest
for a mile or two, when a sudden turn at length brought us the welcome
sight of the mills. Here a hearty welcome from Mr. Leavens, and a
good breakfast, quite compensated for our four hours’ cramping in the
montaria, and prepared us for an exploring expedition among the woods,
paths, and lakes in the vicinity.
Our daily routine during our stay at the mills was as follows:—We rose
at half-past five, when whoever pleased took a bath at the mill-stream.
We then started, generally with our guns, into the forest, as early
in the morning is the best time for shooting, and Mr. Leavens often
accompanied us, to show us the best feeding-trees. At eight we returned
to breakfast, and then again started off in search of insects and
plants till dinner-time. After dinner we generally had another walk for
an hour or two; and the rest of the evening was occupied in preparing
and drying our captures, and in conversation. Sometimes we would start
down the igaripé in the montaria, not returning till late in the
afternoon; but it was in my early expeditions into the forest that I
had my curiosity most gratified by the sight of many strange birds and
other animals. Toucans and parrots were abundant, and the splendid blue
and purple chatterers were also sometimes met with. Humming-birds would
dart by us, and disappear in the depths of the forest, and woodpeckers
and creepers of various sizes and colours were running up the trunks
and along the branches. The little red-headed and puff-throated
manakins were also seen, and heard making a loud clapping noise with
their wings, which it seemed hardly possible for so small a bird to
produce.
But to me the greatest treat was making my first acquaintance with
the monkeys. One morning, when walking alone in the forest, I heard a
rustling of the leaves and branches, as if a man were walking quickly
among them, and expected every minute to see some Indian hunter make
his appearance, when all at once the sounds appeared to be in the
branches above, and turning up my eyes there, I saw a large monkey
looking down at me, and seeming as much astonished as I was myself. I
should have liked to have had a good look at him, but he thought it
safer to retreat. The next day, being out with Mr. Leavens, near the
same place, we heard a similar sound, and it was soon evident that a
whole troop of monkeys were approaching. We therefore hid ourselves
under some trees, and, with guns cocked, waited their coming. Presently
we caught a glimpse of them skipping about among the trees, leaping
from branch to branch, and passing from one tree to another with the
greatest ease. At last one approached too near for its safety. Mr.
Leavens fired, and it fell, the rest making off with all possible
speed. The poor little animal was not quite dead, and its cries, its
innocent-looking countenance, and delicate little hands were quite
childlike. Having often heard how good monkey was, I took it home, and
had it cut up and fried for breakfast: there was about as much of it
as a fowl, and the meat something resembled rabbit, without any very
peculiar or unpleasant flavour. Another new dish was the Cotia or
Agouti, a little animal, something between a guinea-pig and a hare, but
with longer legs. It is abundant, and considered good eating, but the
meat is rather dry and tasteless.
One day we took the montaria and started to pay a visit to the
Commandante at Larangeiras. The morning was beautiful; swallows and
kingfishers flew before us, but the beautiful _pavon_ (_Eurypygia
helias_), which I most wanted, wisely kept out of the way. The banks
of the igaripé were covered with a species of _Inga_, in flower, from
which Mr. B. obtained some fine floral beetles. Among the roots of
the mangroves numbers of “calling crabs” were running about; their
one large claw held up, as if beckoning, having a very grotesque
appearance. At Larangeiras the Commandante welcomed us with much
politeness in his palace of posts and clay, and offered us wine and
bananas. He then produced a large bean, very thick and hard, on
breaking which, with a hammer, the whole interior was seen to be
filled with a farinaceous yellow substance enveloping the seeds: it
has a sweet taste, and is eaten by the Indians with much relish. On
our expressing a wish to go into the forest, he kindly volunteered
to accompany us. We soon reached a lofty forest-tree, under which
lay many of the legumes, of which we collected some fine specimens.
The old gentleman then took us along several paths, showing us the
various trees, some useful as timber, others as “remedios” for all the
ills of life. One tree, which is very plentiful, produces a substance
intermediate between camphor and turpentine. It is called here white
pitch, and is extensively collected, and when melted up with oil, is
used for pitching boats. Its strong camphor-like odour might perhaps
render it useful in some other way.
In the grounds around the house were a breadfruit-tree, some
cotton-plants, and a fine castanha, or Brazil-nut tree, on which were
several large fruits, and many nests of the yellow troupial, which
seems to prefer the vicinity of houses. Finding in Mr. Edwards’s book
a mention of his having obtained some good shells from Larangeiras, we
spoke to Senhor C. about them, when he immediately went to a box and
produced two or three tolerable specimens; so we engaged his son, a boy
of eleven or twelve, to get us a lot at a vintem (halfpenny) each, and
send them to Mr. Leavens at the mill, which however he never did.
During our makeshift conversation, carried on with our very slender
Portuguese vocabulary, Senhor C. would frequently ask us what such and
such a word was in “Americano” (for so the English language is here
called), and appeared highly amused at the absurd and incomprehensible
terms used by us in ordinary conversation. Among other things we told
him that we called “rapaz” in Americano “boy,” which word (_boi_) in
Portuguese means an ox. This was to him a complete climax of absurdity,
and tickled him into roars of laughter, and he made us repeat it to
him several times, that he might not forget so good a joke; even when
we were pulling away into the middle of the stream, and waving our
“adeos,” his last words were, as loud as he could bawl, “O que se chama
rapaz?” (What do you call _rapaz_?)
A day or two before we left the mills we had an opportunity of seeing
the effects of the vampire’s operations on a young horse Mr. Leavens
had just purchased. The first morning after its arrival the poor animal
presented a most pitiable appearance, large streams of clotted blood
running down from several wounds on its back and sides. The appearance
was however, I daresay, worse than the reality, as the bats have the
skill to bleed without giving pain, and it is quite possible the horse,
like a patient under the influence of chloroform, may have known
nothing of the matter. The danger is in the attacks being repeated
every night, till the loss of blood becomes serious. To prevent this,
red peppers are usually rubbed on the parts wounded, and on all likely
places; and this will partly check the sanguinivorous appetite of the
bats, but not entirely, as in spite of this application the poor
animal was again bitten the next night in fresh places.
Mr. Leavens is a native of Canada, and has been much engaged in the
timber-trade of that country, and we had many conversations on the
possibility of obtaining a good supply of timber from the Amazons.
It seems somewhat extraordinary that the greater part of our timber
should be brought from countries where the navigation is stopped nearly
half the year by ice, and where the rivers are at all times obstructed
by rapids and subject to storms, which render the bringing down the
rafts a business of great danger; where, too, there is little variety
of timber, and much of it of such poor quality as only to be used on
account of its cheapness. On the other hand, the valley of the Amazon
and its countless tributary streams, offers a country where the rivers
are open all the year, and are for hundreds and even thousands of
miles unobstructed by rapids, and where violent storms at any season
seldom occur. The banks of all these streams are clothed with virgin
forests, containing timber-trees in inexhaustible quantities, and of
such countless varieties that there seems no purpose for which wood is
required, but one of a fitting quality may be found. In particular,
there is cedar, said to be so abundant in some localities, that it
could, on account of the advantages before mentioned, be sent to
England at a less price than even the Canada white pine. It is a wood
which works nearly as easy as pine, has a fine aromatic odour, and is
equal in appearance to common mahogany, and is therefore well adapted
for doors and all internal finishings of houses; yet, owing to the
want of a regular supply, the merchants are obliged to have pine from
the States to make their packing-cases. For centuries the woodman’s axe
has been the pioneer of civilization in the gloomy forests of Canada,
while the treasures of this great and fertile country are still unknown.
Mr. Leavens had been informed that plenty of cedar is to found on the
Tocantíns, the first great tributary of the Amazon from the south, and
much wished to make a trip to examine it, and, if practicable, bring
a raft of the timber down to Pará; in which case we agreed to go with
him, for the purpose of investigating the natural history of that
almost unknown district. We determined to start, if at all, in a few
weeks; so having been nearly a fortnight at the mills, we returned to
Pará on foot, sending our luggage and collections by the canoe.
Vessels had arrived from the States and from Rio. A law had been lately
passed by the Imperial Government, which was expected to produce a very
beneficial effect on the commerce and tranquillity of the province. It
had hitherto been the custom to obtain almost all the recruits for the
Brazilian army from this province. Indians, who came down the rivers
with produce, were forcibly seized and carried off for soldiers. This
was called voluntary enlistment, and had gone on for many years, till
the fear of it kept the natives from coming down to Pará, and thus
seriously checked the trade of the province. A law had now been passed
(in consequence of the repeated complaints of the authorities here,
frightening the Government with the prospect of another revolution),
forbidding enlistment in the province of Pará for fifteen years; so we
might now hope to be free from any disturbances which might have arisen
from this cause.
Nothing impressed me more than the quiet and orderly state of the city
and neighbourhood. No class of people carry knives or other weapons,
and there is less noise, fighting, or drunkenness in the streets both
day and night, than in any town in England of equal population. When
it is remembered that the population is mostly uneducated, that it
consists of slaves, Indians, Brazilians, Portuguese, and foreigners,
and that rum is sold at every corner at about twopence per pint, it
says much for the good-nature and pacific disposition of the people.
_August 3rd._—We received a fresh inmate into our verandah in the
person of a fine young boa constrictor. A man who had caught it in the
forest left it for our inspection. It was tightly tied round the neck
to a good-sized stick, which hindered the freedom of its movements,
and appeared nearly to stop respiration. It was about ten feet long,
and very large, being as thick as a man’s thigh. Here it lay writhing
about for two or three days, dragging its clog along with it, sometimes
stretching its mouth open with a most suspicious yawn, and twisting up
the end of its tail into a very tight curl. At length we agreed with
the man to purchase it for two milreis (4_s._ 6_d._), and so fitted
up a box with bars at the top, and got the seller to put it into the
cage. It immediately began making up for lost time by breathing most
violently, the expirations sounding like high-pressure steam escaping
from a Great Western locomotive. This it continued for some hours,
making about four and a half inspirations per minute, and then
settled down into silence, which it afterwards maintained, unless when
disturbed or irritated.
Though it was without food for more than a week, the birds we gave it
were refused, even when alive. Rats are said to be their favourite
food, but these we could not procure. These serpents are not at all
uncommon, even close to the city, and are considered quite harmless.
They are caught by pushing a large stick under them, when they twist
round it, and their head being then cautiously seized and tied to the
stick, they are easily carried home. Another interesting little animal
was a young sloth, which Antonio, an Indian boy, who had enlisted
himself in our service, brought alive from the forest. It was not
larger than a rabbit, was covered with coarse grey and brown hair, and
had a little round head and face resembling the human countenance quite
as much as a monkey’s, but with a very sad and melancholy expression.
It could scarcely crawl along the ground, but appeared quite at home
on a chair, hanging on the back, legs, or rails. It was a most quiet,
harmless little animal, submitting to any kind of examination with no
other manifestation of displeasure than a melancholy whine. It slept
hanging with its back downwards and its head between its fore-feet.
Its favourite food is the leaf of the _Cecropia peltata_, of which
it sometimes ate a little from a branch we furnished it with. After
remaining with us three days, we found it dead in the garden, whither
it had wandered, hoping no doubt to reach its forest home. It had eaten
scarcely anything with us, and appeared to have died of hunger.
We were now busy packing up our first collection of insects to send
to England. In just two months we had taken the large number of 550
species of _Lepidoptera_, of which more than 400 were butterflies, 350
beetles, and 400 of other orders, making in all 1300 species of insects.
Mr. Leavens decided on making the Tocantíns trip, and we agreed to
start in a week, looking forward with much pleasure to visiting a new
and unexplored district.