A VISIT TO AMAZONIA.

The Amazon, as is pretty well known, is a river of great length and

more wonderful for its breadth in South America, entering the Atlantic

between Brazil and Guiana. I am going to speak of Pará, a Brazilian

port not far from the sea, to which I paid a visit, by what is known

as the Pará estuary. The blue ocean had been left the day before.

Passing some islands bearing clumps of palms, anchor was dropped in

front of the city of Pará, a gun fired from the bridge, and immediately

a fleet of shore-boats came off, keeping at a respectable distance,

however, until the board of health, customs, and other formalities

usual upon entering a Brazilian port had been observed; but no sooner

had permission been given, than the deck was swarming with men seeking

fares.

'You wan a boat go ashore, sir?' inquired a demure swarthy man about

fifty, who stood twirling his cap in hand; 'cos I take you for five

shillins, carry what you got to hotel; an if you like to give me

anything afterwards, much obliged.'

'That will do!' I returned. And in a few minutes we were speeding

towards the landing-place--a flight of wooden steps, crowded with men

and boys, anxious to know the latest home prices of india-rubber and

other products. The heat was excessive. Not a breath of air stirred

on shore; and although longing to ramble through the town, I felt it

advisable to rest a while first; so we went direct to the Hotel de

Commercio in the Rua da Industria, kept by M. Leduc, an enterprising

Frenchman. Here, single rooms with food run from ten to fifteen

shillings per diem. The food is excellent, everything considered;

but the rooms are dirty and unfurnished, having each but one

chair--invariably broken--a hammock slung in a corner, and a hard bed

and straw bolster covered with but one sheet. The sanitary arrangements

too are far from perfect.

Most places are celebrated for something; Pará is celebrated amongst

other things for its bats. Enormous specimens, a foot or two across the

wings, may be seen banging to and fro about the veranda and bedrooms;

beetles and cockroaches abound too; but there are places up the river

where these are an infinitely greater plague.

The town of Pará is situated about seventy miles from the Atlantic.

It has several spacious squares, such as the Praças do Cuartel,

marine arsenal, government palace, and Mercado. If clangour of bells

and cracking of rockets above steeples at high mass are indicative

of religious enthusiasm, the Paraenses ought to be very devout.

They certainly are not badly off for churches, of which I counted a

considerable number.

The streets in this Brazilian town are laid out at right angles,

upon the American block plan; half-a-dozen are paved with limestone

from Lisbon--brought as ballast, which is cheaper than getting it

from Rio Janeiro; and facing the river are a number of houses three

stories high, some with staffs from upper balconies, from which droop

consular flags. Elsewhere, dwelling-houses are usually one and two

stories only. The favourite colour of Brazilians is green, and doors

and windows, in fact every kind of wood-work, are as verdant as the

forests that surround the town. Few shops boast of glass windows, on

account of the deteriorative action of the sun upon goods exposed; but

some wholesale firms exhibit a considerable variety of merchandise in

their tunnel-shaped stores, where clerks are seen poring over ledgers

in their shirt-sleeves. A seawall running the whole length of the

river-frontage is in course of construction; and when finished, and

the intervening space between it and the shore is filled up and built

upon or paved, the appearance of the city will be decidedly enhanced,

and its sanitary condition improved; for until recently, every kind

of filth and rubbish was shot into the river, where at low-tide it

generated a miasma enough to breed a pestilence.

Brazilians of social position rarely bring up their sons to trade,

but strive to gain them government employ or entrance into one of the

learned professions. It happens, however, that a university career is

essential for the acquisition of a diploma; and as a large percentage

of Brazilian youth entertain a hearty detestation for books, indulgent

parents openly resort to influence, patronage, and intrigue, to enable

their high-spirited though wonderfully delicate sons to live on the

imperial exchequer. Paraense tradesmen are chiefly Portuguese; and it

really is astonishing how rapidly one of these worthies gets on after

his arrival in Pará; for he usually leaves the steerage of an English

vessel with nothing but the clothes on his back, a strong constitution,

and a bag of consecrated charms suspended from a string round his neck.

Accustomed to hard work and poor fare at home, he considers himself

well off with two mil reis or four shillings per diem; and as shibé

or farinha and water is very filling, and goes down with a gusto if

seasoned with an onion, he soon saves enough to purchase a horse and

cart, or maybe send to Lisbon for a stout boat painted green and red.

By thrift and economy his pile of mil rei notes steadily increases

in dimensions; and one fine morning he opens a provision store and

taberna, and begins to see his way to fortune. How complacently he

smiles as he pours out vintems-worth of cashaça to negro labourers!

How carefully he weighs bacalhão and farinha for stout Cafuza women

(half Indian and negro), who balance basins upon the head, smoke short

wooden-stemmed black-bowled pipes, and walk about bare-footed with

light print skirts and no body! He knows the reckless native has no

thought for the morrow, but spends his money as fast as it is received.

Shortly after my arrival in Pará I was invited by Mr Henderson, a

Scotch merchant, to take up my quarters in his charming roçinha at the

outskirts of Nazaré, where I remained a little over three months. Our

house was large and roomy, with immense wooden window-shutters, which

were kept open from early morning till we retired at night, so as to

admit as much fresh air as possible. The rainy season had set in, and

every day we were favoured with a tropical thunderstorm of more or

less violence. I often watched the approach of these storms from the

dining-room balconies of Leduc's hotel, which command a splendid view

of the river. Distant peals of thunder herald the coming storm, and

gusts of wind that rattle shrunken doors and whistle through crazy

windows, impart a welcome freshness to the sweltering stagnant air.

Steamships at anchor have their funnels covered with snowy conical

caps, to keep out the deluge; barges taking in or giving out cargo are

hastily covered with tarpaulin; streets become deserted, except by

vehicles drawn by miserable horses, that firmly compose themselves for

a doze till the down-pour passes over; while clouds of vultures fly

against the gale, to inhale as much fresh air as possible after their

ghastly repast. A steady approaching line of dense gray clouds with a

ragged blue fringe diminishes the horizon; thunder-claps grow louder

and more frequent; big drops patter upon the red-tiled roofs; and then

falls a deluge upon house-tops, that rolls into the streets below in a

perfect cascade. Anything beyond ejaculatory conversation is quite out

of the question, for the noise is simply deafening; and although, from

the vivid flashes of lightning, we know it is thundering big-guns, we

hear nothing beyond the crash of rain.

While the tempest lasts we tumble into our hammocks and endeavour to

escape drops that trickle between the tiles; and in half an hour

proceed to the balcony to see how matters look outside. The storm has

passed over, and the horizon grows clearer; the islands in front are

lit up with rays of golden sunshine, that stream through rifts in the

leaden clouds upon the emerald expanse of forest; sleepy horses are

awoke by drivers, who hit them over the nose with a stick and inquire

what is ailing; foot-passengers with coloured umbrellas pick their way

tiptoe amid miniature lakes, seas, and channels that flood the road;

steamboats are the cleaner for their washing; vultures stand upon

houses, palacios, and churches, with wings outstretched to dry; and

by-and-by in the azure heavens float mountains of fleecy clouds that

playfully emit flashes of lightning as they collide, until night draws

near; and as the sun sinks beneath the western forests, pale stars peep

forth, proclaiming the close of another day.

Mr Henderson's house was so far distant from Pará that no noise reached

us from the city excepting the occasional crack of a rocket, a faint

bugle-call, or gun-fire of a boat announcing the arrival of a foreign

mail. The noise of insect life, especially during the middle watches

of the night, imparted a sense of loneliness, of being shut out from

the world. There was an incessant hum, chirp, burr, and whir, and every

now and then a bull-frog would 'Woof, woof!' smaller frogs shout 'Hoy,

hoy, hoy!' night-birds fly over the roof, emitting weird shrill cries;

and what with the kissing conversation of bats, bites of sanguinary

carpanás or mosquitoes, the tickling sensation of jiggers in my toes,

and the fear of being wound up by a scorpion, centipede, tarantula, or

maybe poisonous snake, I frequently kept awake till towards morning,

when thoroughly overcome with watching and fatigue, I would fall into a

profound and refreshing sleep.

At daybreak we always had a cup of delicious fragrant black coffee;

and while the heavy dew spangled every leaf and blade of grass, I

frequently went for a walk down the newly cut roads into the forest,

when I would be sure to be overtaken by the early train going out with

female slaves and batches of children of all shades of black, white,

and copper colour, to breathe the cooler air of the forest glades. In

anticipation of the probable extension of the city, an immense area of

forest has been divided into blocks by spacious parallel avenues, to be

intersected by streets at equidistant right angles. The open spaces are

covered with short capim or grass; but however much one may delight to

stroll about in the shade, he is sure to have his legs covered with an

almost invisible mite called moquim, that causes an itch almost enough

to drive one frantic, especially at night; and very likely a number of

carrapatos into the bargain. It is dangerous to scratch where moquim

have settled, for running sores difficult to heal usually follow. I

have seen Europeans and North Americans from the States with legs in

a frightful condition, in fact lamed through scratching the skin till

sore. An immediate, agreeable, and effectual remedy against moquim,

though they be ever so numerous, is to sponge the body with cashaça,

the common white rum of the country. Carrapatos differ in size. These

tiny pests are about as large as a pin's head; and the horse tick about

three or four times larger still. Both settle upon the clothes, or

crawl up the legs, laying hold of the flesh with serrated fangs, and

adhering so tenaciously that it is impossible to remove them entire;

and to leave a portion sticking to the skin is certain to produce

an ugly sore. The best way to get rid of this loathsome acaride is

to sponge it well with spirits of any kind, when it will soon drop

off; a hint which may be useful to Europeans who are pestered with

harvest-bugs.

The forest round Pará naturally strikes a European as superlatively

grand. It is only, however, upon interior high lands that vegetation

attains the height, dimensions, and luxuriance that captivate and

bewilder the senses. It wholly differs from anything found in temperate

climes; and the stranger never tires of new forms of life and beauty

that momentarily meet his gaze, and indicate an exuberance and

prodigality surpassing his grandest ideal home conceptions. Accustomed

only to individual forms as seen in home conservatories, the mind

becomes bewildered when countless specimens of equatorial growth are

massed together. Instead of gnarled and knotted oaks whose venerable

appearance denote centuries of battle against fierce autumn storms and

icy northern blasts, there is a lithe youthfulness even about veritable

giants; and though a tree may be dead and hollow within, luxuriance

of verdant parasitical plants lends a charming illusion, and hides

the fact from view. Light, heat, air, and moisture are essential for

the proper development of the richer forms of parasitical life; hence

on water frontage and in some of the quiet avenues where I loved

to stroll, I observed exhibitions of lavish profusion which rather

resembled the dreams of fairyland than the realities of actual life. In

one spot, a compact mass of tiny foliage would drape a number of lofty

trees to the ground; in another, eccentrically arranged festoons and

garlands sprinkled with occasional scarlet and violet passion-flowers

decorated some hundreds of feet without a single break; while further

on, endless picturesque, artistic, and graceful combinations ravished

the sight, and awoke reverential and exquisitely happy emotions.

On both sides of avenues near the trees the ground is closely covered

with beautiful lycopodium moss. Its favourite place of growth is on

shady clearings, though it seems to grow best where timber has been

burned on the ground. A foreigner desirous of learning how to take

forest bearings without a compass cannot do better than cut his way

into one of the furthest blocks in the district beyond Nazaré. He knows

he cannot be lost, from the fact of roads existing on every side;

hence he may go to work deliberately, and be under no apprehension

as to result. In these spots where undergrowth has not been touched

will be found solitary specimens of the curuá, a pretty ground-palm

that shoots a number of long fronds from the centre, in which stands

a smooth slender spathe, employed in thatching. The broken stems of

slim palms shew where young assaís have been cut down for the sake

of bunches of cherry-looking fruit employed in the manufacture of a

refresco. Assaí is drunk by everybody in Amazonia when they can get it,

at all hours of the day and before and after meals. Five or six gallons

of the fruit, each about the size of a marble, are usually piled in

a large iron basin containing a requisite proportion of water; the

mass is then worked over and over till the outer pulpy skin is worked

off; the bare kernels are taken out, and at the bottom remains a rich

violet-coloured liquid, that may be imbibed _ad lib._ It is best mixed

with farinha seca and sugar, and eaten with a spoon. A liking for it is

soon acquired, and it is not considered good taste to refuse a cuya or

calabash of assaí when offered by a lady.

Every shrub, plant, and tree, and almost every blade and leaf of grass,

is covered with insect life. Ants are the most common, and meet the eye

everywhere. It is impossible to go far without coming across tumuli of

hard mud four feet high; and huge coffee-coloured excrescences standing

out upon the trunks of trees indicate where copim or white ants have

taken up their abode. A few days after my arrival at Mr Henderson's,

I noticed the front of our house was covered with what appeared to me

to be streaks of mud; and feeling convinced they had not been there

the day before, I proceeded to examine them, and found the lines were

neatly constructed covered-ways. Myriads of white ants were travelling

backwards and forwards; and no doubt a colony had made up its mind to

devour as much of the wood-work as possible, and by way of change,

shew students how to rapidly get through and digest good books. I saw

two volumes of _Chambers's Information_ which had been drilled by

these indefatigable workers as neatly as though the holes had been

punched by an awl. The covered-way hides the workers from quick-sighted

insectivorous birds, especially woodpeckers. Domestic fowls, lizards,

toads, armadillos, and tamanduas destroy vast numbers. The largest and

most numerous ants I have seen were in the Campos between the Xingú

and Tapajóz. Near the hill-slopes a few miles from Santarem, it is

simply impossible to preserve a house from attack, and very frequently

a huge nest actually hangs from the ridge-pole. The ant, however, which

attracts most attention is the saúba. It marches in columns, each

member carrying a triangular or circular section of a leaf larger than

itself. The only way to turn them from a garden is by sweeping the

track with a flaming branch for a distance of forty or fifty yards;

but as new excursions will probably be made during the night, one

often finds that they have paid a visit and departed, leaving perhaps

a favourite orange tree entirely denuded of foliage. A big ant called

the tucandera is very common just outside Pará; indeed it is hardly

possible to walk many yards in the forest without meeting it: the bite

inflicts excruciating agony. I have never been stung by a scorpion

or bitten by a centipede; but I have been nipped by a tucandera, and

can quite believe that the pain inflicted is more severe than that of

either of the two former.

What with the uproar of çicadas, chirping of grasshoppers, screaming

of parrots, cawing of aráras or macaws (the cry of this splendidly

plumaged bird closely resembles ára, arára, hence its name), plaintive

notes of japím and toucans, and numerous other indescribable sounds,

the attention of the new-comer is kept continually upon the _qui vive_

until eleven o'clock, when the intense oven-like heat warns him it is

time to return. Emerging from the forest into one of the avenues the

sun will be found nearly overhead; lizards of all sizes--that is to

say from three inches to four feet in length--dart across the path and

scuttle into the bush; and here and there a snake has to be guarded

against, and if need be killed, with the short sapling which every

pedestrian ought to carry. Upon reaching home I usually took a bath,

had a substantial breakfast, and rested till the unfailing thunderstorm

cooled the atmosphere.

Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 711, August 11, 1877 · 第 11 / 17 题