A TREAT IN PROSPECT
THE week at the _fazenda_ was a time of pleasant rest to the elders and
full of delight to the children. They rode the horses and saw the cows
milked and fed the pigs. These last were always taken very good care of
by the _fazendeiro_,[15] for they afford the principal food for all on
the plantation.
There was very little in regard to coffee-raising that the children did
not learn, for their inquisitive little noses were poked into every
shed and room to see what was going on. Their Uncle Hilario went with
them one day and explained it all fully while they listened eagerly.
"First the coffee goes to this large shed and is dumped into the great
vat," he said. "The iron thing in the centre of the vat is the pulping
machine. You see it is round like a cylinder and covered with teeth,
and there are holes in the bottom. The teeth are covered on one side
with a curved sheet of metal. When the cylinder revolves, water is
turned into the vat, and as it flows through, the seeds are carried
through the holes in the cylinder into tanks where the remaining matter
is washed away.
"Then they go to the drying terrace," he said as they left the building
and went toward a large piece of ground exposed to the blazing sun
and covered with cement. "Here it is. After the pulp has been removed
from the seeds there is left a thin skin. The seeds are spread in thin
layers upon the ground and left to dry thoroughly in the sun, while
workmen constantly turn them over and over with rakes to hasten the
drying."
"How long does it take to dry them?" asked Martim.
"Several weeks," said his father. "On some _fazendas_ they use steam
heat, but we like the sun-dried coffee much the best. After the seeds
are thoroughly dried they are taken to another building and passed
through heavy rollers and the chaff separated and blown away.
"Now we will go to the sorting room," and they entered a long, low
building where a number of women and girls were working at long tables
piled with heaps of coffee berries. Men were constantly bringing in
baskets full of the berries, which the women and girls sorted into
different grades according to their quality.
"How fast their fingers fly," said Maria. "I don't see how they do it."
"They have done it so often and practice makes perfect," said her
uncle. "As they sort the seeds they put them in sacks and the men carry
them to another ware-house, where they are packed in sacks and weighed
ready to be shipped."
"Uncle, what are those girls doing who are flying about everywhere with
sieves in their hands?" asked Lola.
"They gather up all the berries which the men scatter as they carry the
coffee about," he answered. "You see we do not want to waste anything.
"Do you see those wagons being loaded? The coffee in those sacks is
ready to go to Sao Paulo, and thence to Santos to be shipped to North
America. Our coffee goes to every part of the world, for the coffee of
the _Fazenda Esperança_ is considered especially good.
"Now you have followed the coffee berry from the tree to the market and
I hope you will try to remember all about it, for the coffee industry
is one of the greatest in the country."
"It's ever so interesting, uncle," said Maria. "And thank you for
telling us about it."
"I have enjoyed it more than you have," he answered. "It is a pleasure
to talk to such eager little listeners.
"Rest yourselves now, for you must be tired with all this tramping.
I am going to the house to see your mother about some plans for
to-morrow."
"Do tell us, uncle," they all cried, but he only shook his head and
laughed as he went away.
"I shall simply _die_ of curiosity if I do not find out what uncle is
planning," said Maria.
"I don't see what good that would do," said Martim, "for you wouldn't
be likely to either know about it or to do it if you were dead."
Maria made a naughty little face at him, and a quarrel seemed imminent
when Lola, who had gone to the house when her uncle did, came running
toward them waving her hand wildly.
"Oh! What do you think!" she cried as she ran up to them. "The
loveliest thing has happened."
"What?" cried all the children at once, but Lola was too out of breath
to answer.
"Uncle Hilario is certainly a darling!" she said at last. "He has
prepared the loveliest treat for us! He says that to-morrow we all
start for the Falls of Iguazu, and Maria, your father has come and--"
but she had no chance to finish her sentence, for Martim shouted, "The
Falls of Iguazu! Hurrah!" and ran off to the house, while Maria with a
squeal of "Daddy!" pelted after him as fast as she could go. Lola and
Affonzo looked at each other and laughed.
"What's it all about, Lolita?" he asked and she answered,
"Uncle Hilario told me that they had only been awaiting Uncle Juan's
arrival to make the excursion to these wonderful falls and that we
start to-morrow."
"Where are the falls?" asked Affonzo.
"Indeed, I don't know, but it is several days' journey and we can go
only part of the way by train. We must take a boat and perhaps ride
upon burros. It is far in the woods, and very few people go there."
"Let us go and find out all about it," said Affonzo, and the two
children hurried to the house as the rest of the party had done.
There they found considerable excitement, every one asking a thousand
questions which were not answered until the mothers placed their
fingers in their ears and demanded silence. Maria was seated upon her
father's knees, her usually sober little face bright with happiness,
as she whispered to Lola, "He is going to Para with us, to stay all
winter, so I can be with him and have you too!" Lola gave her hand a
loving squeeze, but said nothing, for Uncle Hilario began to speak.
"The Falls of Iguazu, children, are one of the most beautiful places in
all Brazil. They lie at the joining of the Parana and Iguazu rivers,
at the point where the frontiers of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina
meet. We will go by rail to Curitaba but part of the way lies through
the mountains and will be hard to travel. The sail down the river will
be delightful. Your mother, Martim, will stay here on the plantation,
and any one who wishes may stay with her. Uncle Juan, Martim and I,
your father and mother, Lola, are going. Who else wants to be in the
party?"
"I!" cried all three children at once, and Lola added,
"We'll be so good, uncle, if we can only go!"
"Well, you may all go, then," said the Senhor Lopez, "and I think
it will be a delightful trip. No--" as they all started to ask
questions--"don't ask me a thing to-day. There will be plenty of time
to talk about it on our journey, and I have not a moment to spare, for
it takes a great deal of planning to get such a party off."
"Yes, and I have all I can possibly attend to," said Lola's mother. "So
you little folk must amuse yourselves."
"I am the only one who has nothing to do," said Uncle Juan. "Suppose
you all come out under the palms with me, and I will try to tell you
something of the country we are going to see." So joyfully they trooped
after him and listened spellbound to his words.
"The country where we are going," he said, "is called the 'Land of the
Missiones' because it is here that the early missions were founded by
the Jesuits. These devoted men went all over that part of Brazil trying
to convert the Indians and making settlements, some of which are still
standing after two hundred years. San Ignacio, though deserted by the
Indians, is still in existence near Iguazu and there was once there a
prosperous Indian settlement built around a _plaza_, with a school,
dwelling houses and a church.
"The falls are magnificent, but you will have to wait and see them
before you can understand how really beautiful they are."
"Not so beautiful as Niagara, father, of course!" said Maria, and her
father said, "Some people think they are quite as fine, daughter; but
have you a chip on your shoulder now about the States? Maria would
never admit to any North American that anything in the States could be
finer than it was down here," he added to the boys.
Martim exclaimed, "Well, she's a queer sort of a girl! She never would
let us praise anything here, because she'd always say the States were
finer."
"The States were mamma's," she murmured, and her father held her close
and kissed her as he whispered, "Little Loyalty!"
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 15: Owner of the plantation.]