Departure from Barra—River Madeira—Serpa—Villa
Nova—Maués—River Trombetas—Cocoa Plantations—Obidos—Santarem.
Having had my boat thoroughly repaired, calked, and well fitted with
palm coverings, called in Brazil _toldos_, with a sort of Wandering-Jew
feeling that I was destined to leave every body behind and never to
stop, I sailed from Barra on the eighteenth of February. The President
had caused me to be furnished with six tapuios, but unwilling to
dispossess himself at this time of a single working hand, he could not
let them carry me below Santarem. The President is laboring in earnest
for the good of the province; and if anything is to be done for its
improvement he will do it. He paid me every attention and kindness
during my stay at Barra.
But to my host (Antonii, the Italian) I am most indebted for attention
and information. From his having been mentioned by Smyth as at the
head of trade at Barra sixteen years ago, I had fancied that I should
find him an elderly man; but he is a handsome, gay, active fellow,
in the prime of life. His black hair is somewhat sprinkled with gray,
but he tells me that this arises not from age, but from the worry and
vexation he has had in business on account of the credit system. He is
as agreeable as good sense, much information about the country, and
open-hearted hospitality can make a man. I asked him to look out for
Gibbon and make him comfortable; and was charmed with the frank and
hearty manner in which he bade me to "have no care of that."
I fear that I behaved a little churlishly about the mails. There are
post offices established in the villages on the Amazon, but no public
conveyances are provided to carry the mails. The owner or captain of
every vessel is required to report to the postmaster before sailing,
in order to receive the mails; and he is required to give a receipt
for them. I did not like to be treated as an ordinary voyager upon
the river, and, therefore, objected to receipt for the mails, though I
offered to carry all letters that should be intrusted to my care. My
principal reason, however, for declining was, that my movements were
uncertain, and I did not wish to be trammelled. The postmaster would
not give me the mail without a receipt, but I believe I brought away
all the letters. I am now sorry, as I came direct, that I did not give
the required receipt in return for the kindness that had been shown me.
Mr. Potter, the daguerreotypist and watchmaker, sailed in company with
me. We found the current of the "Negro" so slight that, with our heavy
boat and few men, we could make no way against a smart breeze blowing
up the river: we, therefore, a mile or two below Barra, pulled into the
shore and made fast till the wind should fall, which it did about 3 p.
m., when we got under way and entered the Amazon.
Entering this river from the Negro, it appears but a tributary of the
latter, and it is generally so designated in Barra. If a fisherman
just in is asked where he is from, he will say "from the mouth of
the Solimoens." It has this appearance from the Negro's flowing in a
straight course; while the Solimoens makes a great bend at the junction
of the two rivers.
It is very curious to see the black water of the Negro appearing
in large circular patches, amid the muddy waters of the Amazon, and
entirely distinct. I did not observe that the water of the Amazon was
at all clearer after the junction of the Negro; indeed, I thought it
appeared more filthy. We found one hundred and ninety-eight feet of
depth in the bay or large open space formed by the junction of the two
rivers.
About sixty miles below the mouth of the Rio Negro we stopped at the
establishment of a Scotchman, named McCulloch, situated on the left
bank of the river. There is a very large island opposite, which reduces
the river in front to about one hundred yards in width; so that the
establishment seems to be situated on a creek.
McCulloch, in partnership with Antonii, at Barra, is establishing here a
sugar plantation, and a mill to grind the cane. He dams, at great cost
of time and labor, a creek that connects a small lake with the river.
He will only be able to grind about six months in the year, when the
river is falling and the water runs from the lake into the river; but
he proposes to grind with oxen when the river is rising. The difference
between high and low-water mark in the Amazon at this point is, by
actual measurement of McCulloch, forty-two feet. He works with five or
six hands, whom he pays a cruzado, or a quarter of a dollar each, per
day. There is a much greater scarcity of tapuios now than formerly.
Antonii, who used always to have fifty in his employ, cannot now get
more than ten.
McCulloch has already planted more than thirty acres of sugar-cane on
a hill eighty or one hundred feet above the present level of the river.
It seems of tolerable quality, but much overrun with weeds, on account
of want of hands. I gave him a leaf from my experience, and advised
him to set fire to his field after every cutting. The soil is black and
rich-looking, though light; and McCulloch supposes that in such soil his
cane will not require replanting for twenty years. The cane is planted
in December, and is ready to cut in ten months.
This is the man who, in partnership with the Brazilian, built the
saw-mill at Barra, which was afterwards burned down. He sawed one
hundred and thirty thousand feet the first year, but not more than
half that quantity the second; in the third, by making a contract with
Antonii, who was to furnish the wood and receive half the profits,
he sawed eighty thousand. This plank is sold in Pará at forty dollars
the thousand; but the expenses of getting it there, and other charges,
reduce it to about twenty-eight dollars. The only wood sawed is the
_cedro_; not that it is so valuable as other kinds, but because it
is the only wood of any value that floats; and thus can be brought to
the mills. There are no roads or means of hauling timber through the
forests. McCulloch told me that a young American, in Pará, offered to
join him in the erection of a saw-mill, and to advance ten thousand
dollars towards the enterprise. He said that he now thought he was
unwise to refuse it, for with that sum he could have purchased a small
steamer (besides building and fitting the mill) with which to cruise on
the river, picking up the cedros and taking them to the mill.
These are not our cedars, but a tall, branching tree, with leaves more
like our oak. There are two kinds—red and white; the former of which
is most appreciated. Some of them grow to be of great size; between
Serpa and Villa Nova we made our boat fast to one that was floating
on the river, which measured in length from the swell of the root to
that of the first branches (that is a clear, nearly cylindrical trunk)
ninety-three feet, and was nineteen feet in circumference just above
the swell of the roots, which would probably have been eight feet from
the ground when the tree was standing.
McCulloch gave me some castanhas in the shell, and some roots of a
cane-like plant that grows in bunches, with very long, narrow leaves,
and bears a delicate and fragrant white flower, that is called, from
its resemblance in shape to a butterfly, _borboleta_.
The distance hence to the mouth of the Madeira is about thirty miles.
After passing the end of the long island, called _Tamitari_, that lies
opposite McCulloch's, we had to cross the river, which there is about
two miles wide. The shores are low on either hand, and well wooded with
apparently small trees. I always felt some anxiety in crossing so large
an expanse of water in such a boat as ours, where violent storms of wind
are of frequent occurrence. Our men, with their light paddles, could not
keep such a _haystack_ as our clumsy, heavy boat either head to wind or
before it, and she would, therefore, lie _broadside to_ in the trough
of the sea, rolling fearfully, and threatening to swamp. I should have
had sails fitted to her in Barra.
After crossing the river, we passed the mouth of two considerable
streams. The lower one, called _Uauta_, is two hundred yards wide at its
mouth, and has a considerable current. It is said to have a large lake
near its headwaters, with outlets from this lake, communicating with the
Amazon above, and also with the Madeira; that is, it is a paranamiri
of the Amazon, widening into a lake at some part of its course. At
half-past 8 p. m. we made fast for the night to some bushes on the low,
western bank of the Madeira.
A large island occupies the middle of the Amazon, opposite the mouth of
the Madeira. This mouth is also divided by a small island. The western
mouth, up which I pulled nearly to the head of the island, (a distance
of about a mile,) is three-quarters of a mile wide, with sixty-six feet
of depth, and a bottom of fine white and black sand. The current runs at
the rate of three and a quarter miles the hour. This current, like that
of all the rivers, varies very much, according to the season. I was told
afterwards, in Obidos, that, when the river was low—in the months of
August, September, and October—there was very little current, and that a
vessel might reach Borba from the mouth in three days; but that, when it
is full and falling—in the months of March, April, and May—there is no
tributary of the Amazon with so strong a current; and then it requires
twenty days to reach Borba.
The eastern mouth is a mile and a quarter wide. The island which divides
the mouth, is low and grassy at its outer extremity, but high and wooded
at its upper. I looked long and earnestly for the broad _L_ that Gibbon
was to cut on a tree at the mouth of whatever tributary he should come
down, in hopes that he had already come down the Madeira, and, not being
able to go up stream to Barra, had gone on down; but it was nowhere to
be seen.
The Madeira is by far the largest tributary of the Amazon. Once past
its cascades, which are about four hundred and fifty miles from its
mouth, and occupy a space of three hundred and fifty miles in length,
it is navigable for large vessels by its great tributaries—the Beni and
Mamoré—into the heart of Bolivia; and by the Guaporé or Itenes, quite
through the rich Brazilian province of Matto Grosso. The Portuguese
astronomers, charged with the investigation of the frontiers, estimate
that it drains a surface equal to forty-four thousand square leagues.
We shall, however, know more of this river on the arrival of Mr. Gibbon,
whom last accounts left at Trinidad de Moxos, on the Mamoré, one of the
tributaries of this great stream.
The rapids of the Madeira are not impassable; Palâcios, the Brazilian
officer before quoted, descended and ascended them in a canoe, though
he had occasionally to drag the canoe over portages. And Mr. Clay, our
chargé at Lima, was told that a Brazilian schooner-of-war had ascended
the Madeira above the rapids, and fired a salute at _Exaltacion_,
which is in Bolivia, above the junction of the Beni. Palâcios probably
descended at low water, and the schooner went up when the river was
full.
The village of Serpa, where we arrived in the afternoon, is situated
on the left bank of the Amazon, thirty miles below the mouth of the
Madeira. It is a collection of mud-hovels of about two hundred souls,
built upon a considerable eminence, broken and green with grass, that
juts out into the river. There is a point of land just above Serpa, on
the opposite side, which, throwing the current off, directs it upon the
Serpa point, and makes a strong eddy current for half a mile above the
town close in shore.
Serpa has a considerable lake back of it called Saracá, on the lower
end of which is the village of Silves, a little larger than Serpa. That
entrance to the lake which communicates with the Amazon near Serpa is
not large enough for my boat to enter; that near Silves will admit large
schooners. A mark on a tree shows that the river rises about twelve feet
above its present level.
We left Serpa at 6 p. m., and drifted all night. We are compelled to
travel at night, for there is so much wind and sea during the day that
we make no headway. We are frequently compelled to lay by, and are
sometimes in danger of being swamped, even in the little nooks and bays
where we stop. The most comfortable way of travelling is to make the
boat fast to a floating tree, for this keeps the boat head on to the
wind and sea, and drags her along against these with the velocity of
the current.
About fifteen miles above Villa Nova, which is one hundred and fifty
miles below Serpa, a boat manned by soldiers pulled out from a hut on
the shore, and told us we must stop there until examined and despatched
by the officer in charge, called inspector. I could not well pull back
against the stream, for we had already passed the hut; so I sent word
to the inspector that I had letters from the President, and pulled in
shore abreast of where I was. The inspector had the civility to come
down to me and inspect my papers. This is a "resisto," or coast-guard,
stationed above the port of entry of Villa Nova, to stop vessels from
passing, and to notify them that they must go into that port. There is
another below Villa Nova, to stop vessels coming up, and to examine the
clearances from the custom-house of those coming down.
Within a quarter of a mile from the shore I found one hundred and twenty
feet of depth, and three miles the hour of current. The current of the
Amazon has increased considerably since the junction of the Madeira.
The inspector told me I was within four hours of Villa Nova; but I
kept in shore, for fear of squalls; and thus, in the darkness of night,
pulled around the shore of a deep bay, where there was little current,
and did not arrive for eight hours, passing the mouth of the small river
Limaõ, about a mile and a half above Villa Nova, where we arrived at 2
a. m.
Villa Nova de Rainha is a long straggling village of single story
mud-huts, situated in a little bend on the right bank of the Amazon. The
temperature of boiling water gives its elevation above the level of the
sea at nine hundred and fifty-nine feet. It contains about two hundred
inhabitants, and the district to which it belongs—embracing several
small villages in the interior, with cocoa plantations on the banks of
the river—numbers four or five thousand. The productions of the district
are cocoa, coffee, and a few cattle, but principally salt fish. The
whole country back of the village is very much cut up by lakes, (with
water communications between them,) where the greater part of the fish
is taken. The sub-delegado gave me a sketch of it from his own personal
knowledge and observation.
This being the frontier town of the province of Amazonas, there is
a custom-house established here. I heard that it had collected one
thousand dollars since the steamer passed up in December. This gives an
indication of the trade of the country; foreign articles, which are the
cargoes of vessels bound up, paying one and a half per cent. on their
value; and articles of domestic produce, which the vessels bound down
carry, paying a half per cent. The collection of one thousand dollars
was made in two months.
The people valued their fowls at fifty cents apiece. We thought them
extortionate, and would not buy; but we happened to arrive on fresh-beef
day, and got a soup-piece. These fresh-meat days are a week apart,
though this is a cattle producing country. It is an indication of the
listless indifference of the people.
Just before reaching Villa Nova, my sounding-lead had hung in the rocks
at the bottom, and a new _piassaba_ line, which I had made in Barra,
of about the size of a common log or cod-line, parted as if it had been
pack-thread. I bought another lead at the village; this also hung at the
first cast, and the line again parted close to my hand, so that I lost
nearly all. My line must have been made of old fibres of the piassaba
which had been in store some time. The bottom of the river near Villa
Nova is very uneven and rocky.
About a league below Villa Nova we passed the mouth of the river _Ramos_
on the right. It is two hundred yards wide, and is a paranimiri, which
leaves the Amazon nearly opposite Silves. It has many small streams
emptying into it in the interior, and sends off canals, joining it with
other rivers, one of which is the Madeira. It is the general route to
_Maués_—a considerable village in the interior, four days from the mouth
of the Ramos.
The country about _Maués_ is described as a great grazing plain,
intersected and cut up with streams and canals, all navigable for the
largest class of vessels that now navigate the Amazon. The soil is very
rich, and adapted to the cultivation of cotton, coffee, and cocoa. The
rivers give abundance of fish; any number of cattle may be pastured upon
the plains; and the neighboring woods yield cloves, cocoa, castanhas,
India-rubber, guaraná, sarsaparilla, and copaiba. If this country be not
sickly (and the sub-delegado at Villa Nova, who gave me a little sketch
of it, told me that it was not) it is probably the most desirable place
of residence on the Amazon.
Baéna, in his chorographic essay on the province of Pará, says of
Maués, that it is situated upon a slight eminence on a bay of the
river Mauéuassu, which empties into the Furo, or canal of Ururaia,
by means of which, and the river Tupinambaranas, one may enter the
river Madeira thirteen leagues above its mouth. He gives the number of
inhabitants in 1832 at one thousand six hundred and twenty-seven. The
official report for 1850 states it at three thousand seven hundred and
nine whites, and eighty-two slaves. This official report makes an ugly
statement as regards its health; it gives the number of births in a
year at seventy-four, and deaths at one hundred and thirty-one. I have
no confidence in this statement, and it looks like a misprint. This
report stated the number of inhabited houses at Barra as one hundred and
seventy. This I knew was an error, and I took the liberty of making it
four hundred and seventy.
Just below the mouth of the Ramos, quite a neatly rigged boat, carrying
the Brazilian flag, put off from a house on shore, and seemed desirous
to communicate with us; but she was so badly managed that, although
there was a fine breeze, (directly ahead, however,) she could not
catch us, though we were but drifting with the current. Had I known her
character I would have paddled up against the stream to allow her to
join company; but my companion, Mr. Potter, said that she was a boat
belonging to the church, and begging for Jerusalem.
Finding that she could not come up with us, she put back, and a light
canoe with a soldier in it, soon overtook us. The soldier told me that
this was another custom-house station, and that I must pull back and
show my clearance from the collector at Villa Nova. I was a good deal
annoyed at this, for I thought the said collector, to whom I carried
letters from the President, might have had the forethought to tell me
about this station, so that I might have stopped there and saved the
time and labor of pulling back. The soldier, seeing my vexation, told me
that if I would merely pull in shore and wait, the inspector, who was
then a few miles down the river, would soon be by on his way up, and I
could communicate with him there.
To do this even carried me some distance out of my way; but I had
previously resolved to conform scrupulously to the laws and usages
of the country; so I smothered my annoyance, pulled in, and had the
good luck to meet the inspector before reaching the land. This was a
mere boy, who looked at my papers coldly, and without comment, except
(prompted by an old fellow who was steering his boat) he asked me if I
had no paper from the collector at Villa Nova. I told him no, that I was
no commerciante, had nothing to sell, and that he had read my passports
from his government. After a little hesitation he suffered me to pass.
The pull into the right bank had brought me to the head of an island.
The inspector told me that the passage was as short on that side, but
that it was narrow, and full of _carapanã_, as musquitoes are called
on the Amazon. Although I have a musquito curtain which protects me
completely, yet the tapuios had none, and, whenever I stopped at night,
they had a wretched time, and could not sleep a moment. This was one
of the reasons why I travelled at night. All persons are so accustomed
to travel from Barra downwards at night, and to keep out far from the
shore, that they do not carry musquito curtains, which the travellers
on the upper Amazon and its tributaries would perish without.
We pulled back into the main stream and drifted all night, passing the
small village of _Parentins_, situated on some high lands that form the
boundary between the provinces of Pará, and Amazonas.
We now enter the country where the cocoa is regularly cultivated,
and the banks of the river present a much less desolate and savage
appearance than they do above. The cocoa-trees have a yellow-colored
leaf, and this, together with their regularity of size, distinguishes
them from the surrounding forest. At 8 p. m., February 25, we arrived at
Obidos, one hundred and five miles below Villa Nova. Several gentlemen
offered to furnish me a vacant house; but I was surly, and slept in my
boat.
Whilst at Obidos, I took a canoe to visit the _cacoaes_, or cocoa
plantations, in the neighborhood; the fruit is called _cacao_. We
started at 6 a. m., accompanied by a gentleman named Miguel Figuero,
and stopped at the mouth of the _Trombetas_, which empties into the
Amazon four or five miles above Obidos. It enters the Amazon by two
mouths within sight of each other, (the island dividing the mouth being
small;) the lower and smaller mouth is called Sta. Teresa, and is about
one hundred and fifty yards wide; the upper (Boca de Trombetas) is half
a mile wide, and enters the Amazon at a very sharp angle; its waters
are clear, and the dividing-line between them and those of the Amazon
is preserved distinct for more than a mile.
The Trombetas is said to be a very large river; in some places as wide
as the Amazon is here—about two miles. It is very productive in fish,
castanhas, and sarsaparilla, and runs through a country well adapted
to raising cattle. I have heard several people call it a world; they
may call it so on account of its productions, or it may be a "world of
waters," for the whole country, according to the description of it, is
entirely cut up with lakes and water-communications. The river is only
navigable for large vessels five or six days up, and is then obstructed
by rocks and rapids, which make it impassable. Little is known of the
river above the falls; it is very sickly below them with tertianas,
which take a malignant type.
Near the mouth of this river we stopped at an establishment for making
pots and earthenware generally, belonging to a gentleman named Bentez,
who received us with cordiality. This country house was neat, clean, and
comfortable. I caught glimpses of some ladies neatly dressed, and with
very pretty faces; and was charmed with the sight of a handsome pair
of polished French leather boots sitting against the wall. This was the
strongest sign of civilization that I had met with, and showed me that
I was beginning to get into communication with the great world without.
Senhor Bentez gave me some eggs of the "enambu," a bird of the pheasant
or partridge species, some of which are as large as a turkey. There
are seven varieties of them, and an intelligent young gentleman, named
D'Andrade, gave me the names, which were Enambu-assu, (assu is _lingoa
geral_, and means large,) Enambu-toro, Peira, Sororina, Macucana, Urú,
and Jarsana.
In crossing the Amazon we were swept by the current below the plantation
we intended to visit, and thus had a walk of a mile through the cocoa
plantations, with which the whole right bank of the river between Obidos
and Alemquer is lined. I do not know a prettier place than one of these
plantations. The trees interlock their branches, and, with their large
leaves, make a shade impenetrable to any ray of the sun. The earth
is perfectly level, and covered with a carpeting of dead leaves; and
the large golden-colored fruit, hanging from branch and trunk, shine
through the green with a most beautiful effect. The only drawback to the
pleasure of a walk through them arises from the quantity of musquitoes,
which in some places, and at certain times, are unendurable to one not
seasoned to their attacks. I could scarcely keep still long enough to
shoot some of the beautiful birds that were flitting among the trees.
This is the time of the harvest, and we found the people of every
plantation engaged, in the open space before the house, in breaking
open the shells of the fruit, and spreading the seed to dry in the sun
on boards placed for the purpose. They make a pleasant drink for a hot
day by pressing out the juice of the gelatinous pulp that envelops the
seeds; it is called cacao wine; is a white, rather viscid liquor; has an
agreeable, acid taste, and is very refreshing; fermented and distilled,
it will make a powerful spirit.
The ashes of the burnt hull of the cacao contains a strong alkali, and
it is used in all the "cacoaes" for making soap.
We were kindly received by the gentleman whom we went to visit, Senhor
José da Silva, whom we found busily engaged in gathering the crop. When
he discovered that we had eaten nothing since daylight, he called out
in true hospitable country fashion, "Wife, cook something for these men;
they are hungry;" and we accordingly got some dinner of turtle and fowl.
In addition to the gathering of his cocoa, Senhor da Silva was engaged
in expressing a clean, pretty-looking oil from the castanha. The nut
was first toasted in the oven; then pulverized in a wooden mortar; and
the oil was pressed out in the same sort of wicker-bag that is used
for straining the mandioc. He said that the oil burned well, and was
soft and pleasant to put on the skin or make unguents of, though it had
not a pleasant smell. This oil has not yet found its way into foreign
commerce.
From the statements of this gentleman, I gathered the following facts
regarding the cocoa:
The seed is planted in garden beds in August. When the plants come up,
it is sometimes necessary to water them, also to protect them from the
sun by arbors of palm, and to watch carefully for their protection from
insects. In January, the plants are removed to their permanent place,
where they are _set out_ in squares of twelve palms. Plantains, Indian
corn, or anything of quick growth, are planted between the rows, for
their further protection from the sun whilst young. These are to be
grubbed up so soon as they begin to press upon the cocoa trees.
In good land the trees will give fruit in three years, and will continue
to give for many years; though tradition says they begin to fail after
seventy or eighty.
The trees bud and show fruit in October or November for the first crop,
and in February and March for the second. The summer harvest commences
in January and February; and the winter crop, which is the largest,
is gathered in June and July. One crop is not off the trees before the
blossoms of the second appear. We saw no blossoms; and I heard at Obidos
that the winter crop had probably failed entirely.
Every two thousand fruit-bearing trees require, for their care and
croppage, the labor of one slave.
When they are young they need more attention, and two are necessary.
The trees are kept clean about the roots, and insects are carefully
destroyed; but the ground is never cleared of its thick covering of dead
leaves, which are suffered to rot and manure it.
The earth of the cacoaes that I saw opposite Obidos is a rich, thick,
black mould, and is the best land I have seen. It is low, particularly
at the back of the plantations; and the river, by means of creeks,
finds its way there, and frequently floods the grounds, destroying many
trees. The banks of the river are five or six feet high; but the river
is constantly encroaching upon them. Senhor Silva told me that, when he
first took possession of the place, he had seven rows of trees between
the house and the river; now, only three rows remain. The houses have
frequently to be moved further back, so that these cocoa plantations
must, in the course of time, be destroyed.
In good ground, and without accident, every thousand trees will give
fifty arrobas of the fruit; but the average is probably not over
twenty-five. A tree in good condition, and bearing well, is worth
sixteen cents; the land in which it grows is not counted in the sale.
One slave will take care of two thousand trees. The value of the arroba
in Pará is one dollar. With these data, calculation will make the
cultivation of the cocoa, in the neighborhood of Obidos, but a poor
business; and, indeed, I heard that most of the cultivators were in debt
to the merchants below. Should the thousand trees give fifty arrobas,
and the price of the arroba run up to one dollar and twenty-five cents,
and one dollar and fifty cents, as it does sometimes in Pará, it would
then be a very profitable business.
Obidos is situated upon a high, bold point, and has all the river (about
a mile and a half in width) in front of it. The shores are bold, and
the current very rapid. I had heard it stated that bottom could not
be obtained in the river off Obidos, and I bought six hundred feet
of line and a seven-pound lead to test it. In what was pointed out as
the deepest part, I sounded in one hundred and fifty, one hundred and
eighty, and two hundred and ten feet, with, generally, a pebbly bottom.
In another place I judged I had bottom in two hundred and forty feet;
but the lead came up clean. I may not have had bottom, or this may have
been of soft mud, and washed off from the arming of soap that I used.
It is a very difficult thing to get correct soundings in so rapid a
current, and in such deep water.
The land on which Obidos is situated may be called mountainous, in
comparison to the general low land of the Amazon; and far back in the
direction of the course of the Trombetas were seen some very respectable
mountains.
The coast, from the mouth of the Trombetas to Obidos, is about one
hundred and fifty feet in height; is of red earth; and is supported upon
red rock, of the same nature as that at Barra. This rock is very hard
at bottom, but softer above, and many king-fishers build their nests
in it. The general height is broken in one or two places, where there
are small lakes. One of these, called Tiger lake, would afford a good
mill-seat, which might grind for six or seven months in the year.
The town of Obidos proper contains only about five hundred inhabitants;
but the district is populous, and is said to number about fourteen
thousand. There is quite a large church in the town, built of stone
and mud, with some pretensions to architecture; but, though only built
in 1826, it seems already falling into ruins, and requires extensive
repairs.
There are several shops, apparently well stocked with English and
American cloths, and French fripperies. I heard a complaint that the
trade was monopolized by a few who charged their own prices; but I
judged, from the number of shops, that there was quite competition
enough to keep the prices down to small profits. The value of the
imports of the district of Obidos is nearly double that of the exports,
the staple articles of which are cacao and cattle.
I have my information from Senhor Antonio Monteiro Tapajos, who was very
kind to me during my stay in Obidos. He gave me some specimens of Indian
pottery; and his wife, a thin, delicate-looking lady, apparently much
oppressed with sore eyes and children, (there being nine of the latter,
the oldest only thirteen years of age,) gave me a very pretty hammock.
Senhor Joao Valentin de Couto, whose acquaintance I made by accident,
gave me a live young Peixe-boi, which unfortunately died after it had
been in my possession but a day. He also made me a present of some
statistical tables of the affairs of the province; and not being able to
find, at the time, the report of the President that accompanied these
tables, he had the courtesy to send it to me in a canoe, after I had
left the place and was engaged in sounding the river.
It will be seen that here, as elsewhere, during my travels, I met with
personal attention, kindness, and liberality. Every one whom I conversed
with on the subject of the Amazon advocates with earnestness the free
navigation of the river, and says that they will never thrive until the
river is thrown open to all, and foreigners are invited to settle on its
banks. I think that they are sincere, for they have quite intelligence
enough to see that they will be benefitted by calling out the resources
of the country.
Obidos has a college, lately established, which has some assistance from
the government. It has yet but twenty-four scholars, and one professor—a
young ecclesiastic, modest and intelligent; and enthusiastic and hopeful
about the affairs of his college.
Antonio, a Portuguese, with whom I generally got my breakfast, told me
that there were many poisonous serpents in the neighborhood of Obidos,
and showed me a black swelling on the arm of his little son, the result
of the bite of a scorpion. In five minutes after the boy was bitten, he
became cold and senseless, and foamed at the mouth, so that for some
hours his life was despaired of. The remedies used were homœopathic,
and, what is a new thing to me, were put in the corners of the eye,
as the boy could not swallow. I found homœopathy a favorite mode of
practice from Barra downwards. It was introduced by a Frenchman, a few
years ago, and there are now several amateur practitioners of it.
We left Obidos, in the rain, at 1 p. m., on the 29th February. Our long
stay at Barra had brought the rains upon us, and we now had rain every
day.
We travelled all night, and at half past 9 a. m., on the 1st of
March, we entered a furo of the _Tapajos_, which, in one hour and
three-quarters, conducted us into that river opposite the town of
Santarem. This canal has a general width of one hundred yards, and a
depth, at this season, of thirty feet. There are several country houses
and cocoa plantations on its banks. It is called _Igarapé Assu_.
The Tapajos at Santarem, which is within one mile of the mouth, is about
a mile and a half wide. Its waters are nearly as dark as those of the
Negro; but, where stirred with the paddle, it has not the faint red
color of that river, but seems clear white water. Large portions of the
surface were covered with very minute green leaves and vegetable matter.
We presented our passports and letters to the Delegado, Senhor Miguel
Pinto de Guimaraèns, and obtained lodgings in the hired house of a
French Jew of Pará, who was engaged in peddling watches and jewelry in
Santarem.