Their sail about the mouth of the Amazon was very interesting to them
all, and that up the Pará River to the city of the same name, not
less so. They found the city evidently a busy and thriving place; its
harbor, formed by a curve of the River Pará, here twenty miles wide,
had at anchor in it a number of large vessels of various nationalities.
The "Dolphin" anchored among them, and after a little her passengers
went ashore for a drive about the city.
They found the streets paved and macadamized, the houses with white
walls and red-tiled roofs. There were some large and imposing
buildings--a cathedral, churches and the President's palace were the
principal ones. They visited the public square and beautiful botanic
garden.
It was not very late in the day when they returned to their yacht, but
they--especially Dr. Harold's patients--were weary enough to enjoy the
quiet rest to be found in their ocean home.
"What a busy place it is," remarked Grandma Elsie, as they sat together
upon the deck, gazing out upon the city and its harbor.
"Yes," said the Captain, "Pará is the mart through which passes the
whole commerce of the Amazon and its affluents."
"And that must, of course, make it a place of importance," said Violet.
"It was the seat of revolution in 1833," remarked her grandfather;
"houses were destroyed, lives lost--a great many of them--and grass
grew in streets which before that had been the center of business."
"Papa," exclaimed Ned, "there's a little boat coming, and a man in it
with some little animals."
"Ah, yes; small monkeys, I think they are," Captain Raymond said,
taking a view over the side of the vessel.
Then he called to a sailor that he wanted the man allowed to come
aboard with whatever he had for sale. In a few moments he was at hand
carrying two little monkeys in his arms. He approached the Captain and
bowing low, hat in hand, addressed him in Portuguese, first saying,
"Good-evening," then going on to tell that these were fine little
monkeys--tee-tees--which he had brought for sale, and he went on to
talk fluently in praise of the little creatures, which were about the
size of a squirrel, of a greyish-olive as to the hair of body and
limbs, a rich golden hue on the latter; on the under surface of the
body a whitish grey, and the tip of the tail black.
"Oh, how pretty, how very pretty!" exclaimed little Elsie. "Papa, won't
you buy me one?"
"Yes, daughter, if you want it," returned the Captain, "for I know you
will be kind to it and that it will be a safe and pretty pet for you."
"And Oh, papa, I'd like to have the other one, if I may!" cried Ned,
fairly dancing with delight at the thought of owning the pretty little
creature.
The Captain smiled and said something to the man, speaking in
Portuguese, a language spoken and understood by themselves only of all
on board the vessel.
The man answered, saying, as the Captain afterward told the others,
that he was very glad to sell both to one person, because the little
fellows were brothers and would be company for each other.
Then a tee-tee was handed to each of the children, the Captain gave the
man some money, which seemed to please him, and he went away, while
Elsie and Ned rejoiced over and exhibited their pets, fed them and gave
them a comfortable sleeping-place for the night.
"What lovely, engaging little things they are!" said Grandma Elsie, as
the children carried them away, "the very prettiest monkeys I ever saw."
"Yes," said the Captain, "they are of a very pretty and engaging genus
of monkeys; we all noticed the beauty of their fur, from which they
are called callithrix or 'beautiful hair.' Sometimes they are called
squirrel monkeys, partly on account of their shape and size, and
partly from their squirrel-like activity. They are light, graceful
little creatures. I am hoping my children will have great pleasure
with theirs. They are said to attach themselves very strongly to their
possessors, and behave with a gentle intelligence that lifts them far
above the greater part of the monkey race."
"I think I have read that they are good-tempered," said Grandma Elsie.
"Yes; they are said to be very amiable, anger seeming to be almost
unknown to them. Did you not notice the almost infantile innocence in
the expression of their countenances?"
"Yes, I did," she replied; "it was very touching, and made me feel an
affection for them at once."
"I have read," said Evelyn, "that that is very strong when the little
creatures are alarmed. That sudden tears will come into their clear
hazel eyes, and that they will make a little imploring, shrinking
gesture quite irresistible to kind-hearted, sympathetic people."
"I was reading about the tee-tees not long ago," said Mrs. Lilburn;
"and one thing I learned was that they had a curious habit of watching
the lips of those who speak to them, just as if they could understand
the words spoken, and that when they become quite familiar, they are
fond of sitting on their friend's shoulder, and laying their tiny
fingers on his lips; as if they thought in that way they might discover
the mysteries of speech."
"Poor little darlings! I wish they could talk," exclaimed Grace. "I
daresay they would make quite as good use of the power of speech as
parrots do."
"Possibly even better," said her father. "They seem to be more
affectionate."
"Do they live in flocks in their own forests, papa?" Grace asked.
"Yes," he replied, "so the traveler, Mr. Bates, tells us, and that when
on the move they take flying leaps from tree to tree."
"I am very glad you bought those, papa," she said. "I think they will
be a pleasure and amusement to us all."
"So do I," said Lucilla, "they are so pretty and graceful that I think
we will all be inclined to pet them."
"So I think," said her father, "they seem to me decidedly the prettiest
and most interesting species of monkey I have ever met with."
"And it is really pleasant to see how delighted the children are with
their new pets," said Grandma Elsie.
"Yes," the Captain responded, with a pleased smile, "and I have no fear
that they will ill-use them."
"I am sure they will be kind to them," said Violet. "They were much
interested in the monkeys we saw in going about the city. I saw quite a
number of various species--some pretty large, but most of them small;
some at the doors or windows of houses, some in canoes on the river."
"Yes, I think we all noticed them," said her mother.
"Yes," said the Captain, "I saw several of the _midas ursulus_, a small
monkey which I have read is often to be found here in Pará. It is, when
full grown, only about nine inches long, exclusive of the tail, which
is fifteen inches. It has thick black fur with a reddish brown streak
down the middle of the back. It is said to be a timid little thing, but
when treated kindly becomes very tame and familiar."
"What do monkeys eat, papa?" asked Grace.
"I have been told the little fellows are generally fed on sweet fruits,
such as the banana, and that they are also fond of grasshoppers and
soft-bodied spiders."
"They have some very large and busy ants in this country, haven't they,
father?" asked Evelyn.
"Yes," replied the Captain. "Bates tells of some an inch and a quarter
long and stout in proportion, marching in single file through the
thickets. They, however, have nothing peculiar or attractive in their
habits, though they are giants among ants. But he speaks of another and
far more interesting species. It is a great scourge to the Brazilians,
from its habit of despoiling the most valuable of their cultivated
trees of their foliage. In some districts it is such a pest that
agriculture is almost impossible. He goes on to say that in their first
walks they were puzzled to account for mounds of earth of a different
color from the surrounding soil; mounds, some of them very extensive,
some forty yards in circumference, but not more than two feet high. But
on making inquiries they learned that those mounds were the work of the
saubas--the outworks and domes which overlie and protect the entrances
to their vast subterranean galleries. On close examination, Bates found
the earth of which they were made to consist of very minute granules
heaped together with cement so as to form many rows of little ridges
and turrets. And he learned that the difference in color from the earth
around was because of the undersoil having been brought up from a
considerable depth to form these mounds."
"I should like to see the ants at work upon them," said Grace.
"It is very rarely that one has the opportunity to do so," said her
father. "Mr. Bates tells us that the entrances are generally closed
galleries, opened only now and then when some particular work is going
on. He says he succeeded in removing portions of the dome in smaller
hillocks, and found that the minor entrances converged, at the depth of
about two feet, to one broad, elaborately-worked gallery or mine, which
was four or five inches in diameter."
"Isn't it the ant that clips and carries away leaves?" asked Evelyn.
"Yes, Bates speaks of that; says it has long been recorded in books on
natural history, and that when employed on that work their procession
looks like a multitude of animated leaves on the march. In some places
he found an accumulation of such leaves, all circular pieces about the
size of sixpence, lying on the pathway, no ants near it, and at some
distance from the colony. 'Such heaps,' he says, 'are always found to
have been removed when the place is revisited the next day. The ants
mount the trees in multitudes. Each one is a working miner, places
itself on the surface of a leaf, and cuts with its sharp, scissors-like
jaws, and by a sharp jerk detaches the leaf piece. Sometimes they let
the leaf drop to the ground, where a little heap accumulates until
carried away by another relay of workers; but generally each marches
off with the piece he has detached. All take the same road to their
colony and the path they follow becomes, in a short time, smooth and
bare, looking like the impression of a cart-wheel through the herbage.'"
"I am sorry the children have missed all this interesting information,"
said Violet.
"Never mind, my dear," said her husband, "it can be repeated to them
to-morrow. I think there is a storm gathering, and that we are likely
to have to stay at home here for a day or two."
"Should it prove a storm of any violence we may be thankful that we are
in this good, safe harbor," remarked Mr. Dinsmore.
"And that we have abundance of good company and good reading matter,"
added Grandma Elsie.
"Yes," responded her father, "those are truly additional causes for
thankfulness."
"The little monkeys are another," laughed Lucilla. "I think we will
have some fun with them; and certainly the children are delighted with
their new pets."
"They certainly are engaging little creatures--very different
from those we are accustomed to see going about our streets with
organ-grinders," said Grandma Dinsmore.
The children were on deck unusually early the next morning, their pets
with them. They found their father, mother, Eva and Lucilla there. The
usual affectionate morning greetings were exchanged; then, smiling down
upon Elsie and her pet, the Captain said, "I think you have not yet
tired of your new pet, daughter?"
"No, indeed, papa," was the quick, earnest rejoinder, "I'm growing
fonder of him every hour. Oh, he's just the dearest little fellow!"
"And so is mine," added Ned. "I think I'll name him Tee-tee; and as
Elsie's is a little smaller than this, she is going to call him Tiny."
"If papa approves," added Elsie.
"I am well satisfied," returned their father. "You have begun your day
rather earlier than usual," Captain Raymond went on, addressing the two
children, "and I am well pleased that it is so, because now you can
take some exercise about the deck, which may be prevented later by a
storm," and he glanced up at the sky, where black clouds were gathering.
"Yes, papa, we will," they answered, and set off at once upon a race
round the deck, carrying their pets with them.
The storm had begun when the summons to breakfast came, but the faces
that gathered about the table were cheerful and bright, the talk also.
All agreed that it would be no hardship to have to remain on board for
some days with plenty of books and periodicals to read, the pleasant
company which they were to each other, and the abundance of fruits and
other dainties which the Captain always provided.
When they were done eating, they repaired to the saloon, held their
usual morning service, then sat about singly or in groups, talking,
reading, writing, or, if a lady, busied with some fancy work.
The children were much taken up with their new pets, fondling them and
letting them climb about their shoulders.
Cousin Ronald watched them with interest and pleasure. Elsie was
standing near, her Tiny on her shoulder, gazing into her eyes with
a look that seemed to say, "You are so kind to me that I love you
already." Elsie stroked and patted him, saying, "You dear little pet! I
love you already, and mean to take the very best care of you."
"Thanks, dear little mistress. I am glad to belong to you and mean to
be always the best little tee-tee that ever was seen." The words seemed
to come from the tee-tee's lips, and its pretty eyes were looking right
into Elsie's own.
"Why, you little dear!" she said, with a pleased little laugh, stroking
and patting him, then glancing round at Cousin Ronald, "How well you
talk. In English, too, though I don't believe you ever heard the
language before you came aboard the 'Dolphin.'"
"No, we didn't, though we can speak it now as well as any other," Ned's
pet seemed to say, lifting its head from his shoulder and glancing
around at its brother.
That brought a merry laugh from its little master. "Speak it as much as
you please, Tee-tee," he said, fondling his pet, "or talk Portuguese
or any other language you're acquainted with."
"I'm afraid they will never be able to talk unless Cousin Ronald
is in the company," said Elsie; "or Brother Max," she added, as an
after-thought.
"Yes, Brother Max could make them talk just as well," said Ned. "Oh,
here come the letters and papers!" as a sailor came in carrying the
mailbag.
Its contents gave employment to every one for a time, but, after a
little, Violet, having finished the perusal of her share, called the
children to her and gave them an interesting account of the talk of the
night before about the strange doings of South American ants. They were
much interested, and asked a good many questions. When that subject was
exhausted, Elsie asked to be told something about Rio de Janeiro.
"There is a maritime province of that name in the south-east part of
Brazil," her mother said. "I have read that in the southern part
of it the scenery is very beautiful. The middle of the province is
mountainous. About the city I will read you from the "New International
Encyclopedia," which your father keeps on board whenever we are using
the yacht."
She took down the book, opened and read: "'Rio de Janeiro, generally
called Rio, the capital of the Brazilian empire, and the largest and
most important commercial emporium of South America, stands on a
magnificent harbor, seventy-five miles west of Cape Frio. The harbor
or bay of Rio de Janeiro, said, and apparently with justice, to be the
most beautiful, secure, and spacious bay in the world, is land-locked,
being entered from the south by a passage about a mile in width. It
extends inland seventeen miles, and has an extreme breadth of about
twelve miles. Of its numerous islands, the largest, Governor's Island,
is six miles long. The entrance of the bay, guarded on either side
by granite mountains, is deep, and is so safe that the harbor is
made without the aid of pilots. On the left of the entrance rises
the peak called, from its peculiar shape, Sugarloaf Mountain; and
all round the bay the blue waters are girdled with mountains and
lofty hills of every variety of picturesque and fantastic outline.
The harbor is protected by a number of fortresses. The city stands
on the west shore of the bay, about four miles from its mouth. Seven
green and mound-like hills diversify its site; and the white-walled
and vermillion-roofed houses cluster in the intervening valleys, and
climb the eminences in long lines. From the central portion of the
city, lines of houses extend four miles in three principal directions.
The old town, nearest the bay, is laid out in squares; the streets
cross at right angles, are narrow, and are paved and flagged; and
the houses, often built of granite, are commonly two stories high.
West of it is the elegantly-built new town; and the two districts are
separated by the Campo de Santa Anna, an immense square or park, on
different parts of which stand an extensive garrison, the town-hall,
the national museum, the palace of the senate, the foreign office, a
large opera house, etc. From a number of springs which rise on and
around Mount Corcovado (three thousand feet high, and situated three
and a half miles southwest of the city) water is conveyed to Rio de
Janeiro by a splendid aqueduct, and supplies the fountains with which
the numerous squares are furnished. Great municipal improvements
have, within recent years, been introduced; most of the streets are
now as well paved as those of the finest European capitals; the city
is abundantly lighted with gas; and commodious wharfs and quays are
built along the water edge. Rio de Janeiro contains several excellent
hospitals and infirmaries, asylums for foundlings and female orphans,
and other charitable institutions, some richly endowed; about fifty
chapels and churches, generally costly and imposing structures, with
rich internal decorations, and several convents and nunneries. In the
College of Pedro II., founded in 1837, the various branches of a
liberal education are efficiently taught by a staff of eight or nine
professors; the Imperial Academy of Medicine, with a full corps of
professors, is attended by upward of three hundred students; there is
also a theological seminary. The national library contains one hundred
thousand volumes.'
"There, my dears, I think that is all that will interest you,"
concluded Violet, closing the book.