The Author.

The Mouth of the Putamayo River.

[i]

The Author.

[ii]

[iii]

[iv]

[v]

South America is, to my mind, "the Coming Continent"—the Continent of the future. Everybody knows the wealth of the Argentine, Peru, Chile, and Bolivia; but the interior of Brazil, the largest and richest country of all, not unlike forbidden Tibet, was perhaps better known a century or two ago than now. Few people realize that Brazil is larger than the United States of North America, Germany, Portugal, and a few other countries taken together. The interior is practically a terra incognita—although the ancient Jesuits and, at a later date, escaped slaves and native rubber collectors have perhaps found their way inland to a considerable distance.

When I started on the transcontinental journey I did not take Europeans with me. It is not easy to find men who can stand the strain of so long a journey. I was also not surprised, although I was disappointed, not to be able to obtain suitable officers in Brazil to go part of the journey with me, so that I might be relieved of a portion of the tedious scientific work of the expedition, especially taking and computing daily astronomical observations, to which much time has to be devoted. All the work of all kinds eventually fell upon my shoulders, and after departing I found[vi] myself filling the posts of surveyor, hydrographer, cartographer, geologist, meteorologist, anthropologist, botanist, doctor, veterinary surgeon, painter, photographer, boat-builder, guide, navigator, etc. The muleteers who accompanied me—only six, all counted—were of little help to me—perhaps the reverse. So that, considering all the adventures and misfortunes we had, I am sure the reader, after perusing this book, will wonder that we got back at all, and will be indulgent enough to give me a little credit for saving, through innumerable disasters—and perhaps not altogether by mere luck—all my photographs (800 of them), all my note-books, all my scientific observations, as well as all the vocabularies I made of the various Indian languages of tribes found on my way. Also for bringing all my men out alive.

Here are, briefly, a few results of the expedition:—

(a) First of all it has proved that, far from South America's being an impenetrable continent—as was believed—it is possible for any experienced traveller to cross Brazil in any direction, if he could obtain suitable followers.

(b) It has proved that the "millions of savage Indians" supposed to be swarming all over the interior of Brazil do not exist at all. All the pure Indians of Central Brazil taken together may number a few hundreds, or including half-castes (negroes and Portuguese), a few thousands. As for the wild beasts and snakes, no one ever need fear being troubled by them. They are more afraid of you than you of them, you can take my word for it. So that the terror which has so far prevented people penetrating the interior has no[vii] reasonable ground, and this book ought to be the means of making European people some day swarm to develop that marvellous land now absolutely uninhabited.

(c) Meteorological observations were recorded daily right across Brazil.

(d) Altitude observations, forming a complete chain and including all minor undulations, were registered across the entire South American continent from the Atlantic coast at Rio de Janeiro as far as Callao on the Pacific coast. The observations were taken with a hypsometer and several excellent aneroids. These show that many of the elevations marked on the existing maps of Brazil are inaccurate, the error amounting sometimes to several hundred feet.

(e) A complete survey was made of new country between the Araguaya river and the Madeira, including a careful survey of the Arinos river and the river Arinos-Juruena, one of the most powerful tributaries of the Amazon. In the small map, reproduced from the best existing maps, at the end of the first volume, several high mountain ranges, quite as high as the Andes, may be noticed extending from north to south between the rivers Madeira, Tapajoz, Xingu, Araguaya and Tocantins. Those high ranges are merely the work of imaginative cartographers, who have drawn them to make the map look pretty. They do not exist. I have left them in order to draw the attention of the reader to them. The position of the Arinos-Juruena is from 1 to 1½ degrees farther west than it is there drawn, and should be where I have marked the red line of my route.

(f) Everything that was of interest pictorially,[viii] geologically, botanically, or anthropologically was photographed or sketched. Astronomical observations were constantly taken to determine the positions of our camps and places of importance.

Botanical and geological collections were made, but unfortunately had to be abandoned.

(g) During the journey the head waters of the following important rivers were visited: The Rio Vermelho, Rio Claro, Rio Araguaya, Rio Barreiros, Rio das Mortes, Rio S. Lourenço, the Cuyaba river, the Xingu, the Paranatinga, the Paraguay river (Paraná), the Rio Arinos, the Secundury.

(h) The entire course of the river Tapajoz was studied, and also the entire course of the Amazon from its mouth almost to its birthplace in the Andes.

(i) Useful vocabularies were drawn up of the following Indian languages: Bororo, Apiacar, Mundurucu, Campas or Antis.

(k) The expedition has furthermore shown that it is possible with poor material in the way of followers to accomplish work of unusual difficulty.

(l) That it is possible for people in a normal condition of health to go at least sixteen days without food while doing hard work.

(m) That it is possible to cross an entire continent—for one entire year—in the company of dangerous and lazy criminals without any weapon for protection—not even a penknife—and to bring forth from such poor material remarkable qualities of endurance, courage, and almost superhuman energy.

(n) Last, but not least, on that expedition I was able to collect further evidence that a theory I had long[ix] held as to the present shape of the earth was correct. I had never believed in the well-known theory that a continent, now submerged, once existed between America, Europe and Africa—in other words, where the Atlantic Ocean is now. That theory has found many followers. In support of it one is told that such islands as Madeira, the Canaries, the Azores, are the topmost peaks of a now partly submerged range of mountains which once stood upon that vanished continent. It is also a common belief that Northern Africa underwent the contrary process, and was pushed up from under the sea. That is why—it is said—the Sahara Desert, which was formerly, without doubt, an ocean bed, is now dry and above water.

One has only to look at any map of the entire world to see what really happened to the earth in days long gone by. Let me first of all tell you that there never existed a continent between Africa and South America. In fact, I doubt whether there is as much as a square mile between those two continents more submerged to-day than it was thousands upon thousands of years ago.

Here is what really happened. The earth at one period changed its shape—when, is merely guesswork, and is of no consequence here—and the crust of the earth—not the core, mind you—split into two great gaps from Pole to Pole, with a number of other minor fissures. In other words, the earth opened just like the skin of an over-heated baked apple. The African and American continents, as well as Australasia, with New Guinea, the Celebes Islands, the Philippine Archipelago and China, which before that event formed part[x] of one immense continent, thus became divided, leaving North and South America isolated, between the two great Oceans—the Atlantic and the Pacific—which were then, and only then, formed.

It is easy, by looking intelligently at a map, to reconstruct the former shape of the world. You will notice that the most western portion of Africa fits exactly into the gap between North and South America, while the entire African coast between Dahomey and the Cape Colony fits in perfectly in all its indentations and projections into the coast line of South America. The shores of Western Europe in those days were joined to North America, and find to-day their almost parallel and well-fitting coast line on the east coast of the United States and Canada. On the opposite side of the world, the western side of South America, the same conditions can be noticed, although the division of the two continents (America and Asia) is there much wider. Fragments were formed, leaving innumerable islands scattered in the Pacific Ocean, half-way between the actual continents of Asia, Australia and America. A mere glance is sufficient to see how well Australia fits in along the Chilian and Peruvian coast, the great island of New Guinea along part of Peru and Ecuador, and the west coast of the Central American Isthmus. The Philippine Islands lay probably in those days alongside of Guatemala, while California bordered on Japan.

Such immense rivers as the Amazon, and its portentous tributaries flowing from south to north, were also formed perhaps at that time, great fissures caused by the sudden splitting and cooling of the earth's[xi] crust becoming the river beds. So perhaps was formed the giant cañon of Colorado and the immense fissures in the earth's crust that occur in Central Asia, in Central Africa, and, as we shall see, on the central plateau of Brazil.

Undoubtedly the Antarctic continent was once joined to South America, Australia and Africa. During the last Antarctic expeditions it has been shown that the same geological formation exists in South America as in the Antarctic plateau. On perusing this book, the reader will be struck by the wonderful resemblance between the Indians of South America, the Malay races of Asia, and the tribes of Polynesia. I maintain that they not only resemble each other, but are actually the same people in different stages of development, and naturally influenced to a certain extent by climatic and other local conditions. Those people did not come there, as has been supposed, by marching up the entire Asiatic coast, crossing over the Behring Straits and then down the American coast, nor by means of any other migration. No, indeed; it is not they who have moved, but it is the country under them which has shifted and separated them, leaving members of the same race thousands of miles apart.

I was able to notice among the Indians of Central Brazil many words of Malay origin, others closely resembling words of languages current among tribes of the Philippine Islands. The anthropometric measurements which I took of South American Indians corresponded almost exactly with those of natives of the Sulu Archipelago and the island of Mindanao.

I hope some day to use the wealth of material I[xii] have collected among innumerable tribes on the Asiatic coast, on the islands of the Pacific Ocean, in South America and in Africa, in making a comparative study of those peoples. It should prove interesting enough. I have no space here to go deeply into the subject, as this is merely a book descriptive of South America. I may add that the most ardent supporter of the above theory is the celebrated explorer and scientist, Colonel Marchand, of Fashoda fame—a man who has studied and understands the mysteries of this world better than any man living.

My sincere thanks are due to the following gentlemen for much politeness shown me in connection with the expedition: To Mr. Gustave Babin, the famous writer of Paris; to Mr. Manoel Bomfin (ex-deputy of Brazil), to Senador Alcindo Guanabara, for the keen interest taken in the expedition and for proposing to Congress after my return that a grant of £4,000 should be given to me as a reward for the work done. I herewith also express my gratitude to the Brazilian Government for paying me that sum, which came in usefully to defray part of the expenses of the expedition. To H.E. Dr. Pedro de Toledo, Minister of Agriculture, for the intelligent desire shown to help as much as he could in the venture, and for kindly giving me the free use of all the telegraphs in Brazil, including the Amazon Cable, and other important privileges; to Dr. José Carlos Rodriguez for hospitality and much valuable advice; to Dr. Paolo de Frontin, Conseilheiro Antonio Prado, Dr. José Pereira Rebonças and Mr. Mockill and their respective Companies for the many privileges granted me upon the various railways of which they[xiii] were the Presidents; to Colonel R. E. Brazil and Commandante Macedo for their kind hospitality to me while navigating the lower Tapajoz river; to Dr. A. B. Leguia, President of the Peruvian Republic; to the British Ministers at Petropolis, Lima, La Paz, and Buenos Ayres, and the British Consuls of Rio de Janeiro, Pará, Manaos, Iquitos, Antofogasta, Valparaiso; finally to the British and American Residents at all those places for much exquisite hospitality offered me.

Special thanks are due to Mr. Regis de Oliveira, ex-Brazilian Minister in London, for valuable credentials given me before my departure which paved the way to the hearty reception I received everywhere in Brazil.

A. Henry Savage-Landor.

Savoy Hotel, London.

  September 1913.

[xiv]

[xv]

[xix]

[1]

"More than three months to reach the spot?" asked the cinematograph man in amazement. "Then perhaps Monsieur is on a journey to Mars or the moon! There is no spot on earth that takes so long to reach." (Hearty laughter at his own wit.)

That exclamation, and wise words that follow, came from the assistant of one of the largest firms of cinematograph appliances in Paris, where I had called in order to purchase a moving picture apparatus and 10,000 metres of film to be used on my forthcoming journey across the South American continent.

The shop assistant had very honestly warned me that if the films were to be used in a damp, tropical climate, they must be exposed and developed within three months of their manufacture. After that time they would become so perforated and fogged as to be quite useless. I had remarked that it would take me more than three months to reach the spot where I should begin to take cinematograph pictures.

"Will Monsieur please tell where is the spot where he would be likely to use the films?" continued the assistant, still overcome with surprise.

[2] "In the heart of Brazil."

"In the heart of Brazil ... in the very heart of Brazil?... Oh, mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" (More laughter and a look of compassion at me.) "Mais nous avons une de nos maisons tout à fait près de là!" (Why, indeed, we have one of our factories quite close to there.)

It was then my turn for hearty laughter and the look of compassion.

"Pray," I inquired, "tell me more exactly. Where is your factory close to the heart of Brazil?"

"It is quite, quite close. It is in Montreal, Canada.... You will send your films there ... two or three days' journey.... It will take us a week to develop them ... two or three days for their return journey. In a fortnight you will have them back again."

Quite close, indeed: only a distance of some 65° of latitude—or some 7170 kilometres as the crow flies—with no direct communication by land or water!

That was the Frenchman's knowledge of geography; but I find that the average Englishman, unless he is directly interested in those countries, knows little better, and perhaps even less. Time after time I have been asked in London if Brazil were not a province of Mexico, and whether it is not through Brazil that the Americans are cutting the Panama Canal! There are many who have a vague idea that Brazil is a German colony; others, more patriotic, who claim it as an English possession. Many of those who have looked at the map of the world are under the impression that Spanish is spoken in Brazil, and are surprised when you tell them that Portuguese happens to be the local[3] language. Others, more enlightened in their geography by that great play Charley's Aunt, imagine it a great forest of nut trees. Others, more enlightened still, believe it to be a land where you are constantly walking in avenues adorned with wonderful orchids, with a sky overhead swarming with birds of beautiful plumage. I have been asked in all seriousness whether I found the Andes quite flat—great prairies (the person had heard of the Argentine pampas and got mixed up)—or whether "it" was merely a large lagoon!

I could quote dozens more of these extreme cases of ignorance, but of one thing I am certain, and that is, that there are few people in the British Isles who realize the actual size of the great Brazilian Republic.

Brazil is 8,524,778 square kilometres—with the territory of the Acre newly acquired from Bolivia, 8,715,778 sq. kil. in extent; that is to say, it covers an area larger than the United States of North America, Germany, Portugal, Greece and Montenegro taken together.

Some of the States of the Republic are larger than some of the largest countries in Europe: such as the State of the Amazonas with 1,894,724 sq. kil.; the State of Matto Grosso with 1,378,784 sq. kil.; the State of Pará with an area of 1,149,712 sq. kil.; the State of Goyaz with 747,311 sq. kil.; the State of Minas Geraes with 574,855 sq. kil.; the Acre territory, 191,000 sq. kil.

There are fewer people still who seriously appreciate the great importance of that beautiful country—with no exception the richest, the most wonderful in the world; to my mind undoubtedly the continent of the future.

[4] Incalculable is the richness of Brazil in mineral wealth. Magnificent yellow diamonds are to be found in various regions, those of Minas Geraes and Matto Grosso being famous for their purity and extraordinary brilliancy; agates, moonstones, amethysts, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, topazes, and all kinds of beautiful rock crystals are plentiful. Gold exists in many regions on the central plateau—but particularly in Minas Geraes and Matto Grosso; and platinum in the States of São Paulo, Minas Geraes, Sta. Catharina and Espirito Santo; silver, mercury, lead, tin, salicylated and natural copper are found in many places, as well as graphite, iron, magnetic iron, oxide of copper, antimony, argentiferous galena, malachite, manganese oxide, alum, bituminous schist, anthracite, phosphate of lime, sulphate of sodium, hæmatite, monazitic sands (the latter in large quantities), nitrate of potassium, yellow, rose-coloured, and opalescent quartz, sulphate of iron, sulphate of magnesia, potash, kaolin. Coal and lignite of poor quality have been discovered in some regions, and also petroleum, but not in large quantities.

Rio de Janeiro, showing the beautiful Avenida Central.

Springs of thermal and mineral waters are numerous—particularly those of which the waters are sulphurous or ferruginous; others contain arsenic and magnesia.

Most beautiful marble of various colours is to be found, and also enormous quantities of mica and amianth; porphyry and porphyroid granite, carbonated and hydroxided iron, argillaceous schist, mica schist.

Even richer than the mineral wealth is the botanical wealth, hitherto dormant, of Brazil. Valuable woods occur in many Brazilian forests—although it must not[5] for one moment be imagined that entire forests are to be found composed of useful woods. Indeed this is not the case. Most of the woods are absolutely valueless. Still, when it is realized that the forests of Brazil extend for several millions of square kilometres, it is easy to conceive that there is plenty of room among a majority of poor trees for some good ones. Most Brazilian woods are interesting on account of their high specific gravity. Few, very few, will float on water. On the central plateau, for instance, I could not find a single wood which floated—barring, under special conditions, the burity palm (Mauritia vinifera M.). Along the banks of the Amazon and in the northern part of Brazil this is not quite the case. Some Brazilian woods, such as the iron-tree (pao-ferro), whose name fitly indicates its character, are of extraordinary hardness. The Brazilian forest, although not specially rich in woods for building and naval purposes, is nevertheless most abundant in lactiferous, oliferous, fibrous, medicinal, resinous, and industrial plants—such for instance as can be used for tanning purposes, etc. No country in the world is as rich as Brazil in its natural growth of rubber trees; nor have I ever seen anywhere else such beautiful and plentiful palms: the piassava (Attalia fumifera M.), the assahy (Euterpe oleracea L.), the burity (Mauritia vinifera M.), the carnahuberia (Copernicia cerifera M.), the palmito (Euterpe edulis M.), and many others. I shall give a more detailed description of the most important of these plants as we proceed on our journey and find them in their habitat.

Where, perhaps, Brazil's greatest richness lies is in[6] its hundreds of thousands of square miles of wonderful pasture lands—perfectly ideal, with plenty of excellent water and a delicious climate—capable of some day fattening enough cattle to supply half the world with meat.

All these wonderful riches are absolutely dormant; more than that, absolutely wasted for lack of population, for lack of roads, trails, railways, or navigation of the rivers. The coast of Brazil is highly civilized, and so, more or less, is the immediate neighbourhood of large cities; but the moment you leave those cities, or the narrow zone along the few hundred kilometres of railways which now exist, you immediately relapse into the Middle Ages. When you get beyond the comparatively narrow belt of semi-civilization, along the coast, Brazil is almost as unknown as Mars or the moon. The people who know least the country are, curiously enough, the Brazilians themselves. Owing greatly to racial apathy, they care little for the trouble of developing their beautiful land. They watch with envy strangers taking gold, diamonds, platinum, and precious stones out of their country. They accuse foreigners of going there to rob them of their wealth; yet you seldom meet a Brazilian who will venture out of a city to go and help himself. The Brazilian Government is now beginning to wake up to the fact that it is the possessor of the most magnificent country on earth, and it is its wish to endeavour to develop it; but the existing laws, made by short-sighted politicians, are considered likely to hamper development for many years to come.

Brazil is not lacking in intelligent men. Indeed, I met in Rio de Janeiro and S. Paulo men who would[7] be remarkable anywhere. Councillor Antonio Prado of S. Paulo, for instance, was a genius who had done wonders for his country. The great development of the State of S. Paulo compared with other States is chiefly due to that great patriot. Then the Baron de Rio Branco—the shrewd diplomatist, who has lately died—has left a monument of good work for his country. The cession of the immensely rich tract of the Acre Territory by Bolivia to Brazil is in itself a wonderful achievement. Dr. Pedro de Toledo, the present Minister of Agriculture, is a practical, well-enlightened, go-ahead gentleman, who makes superhuman efforts, and in the right direction, in order to place his country among the leading states of the two Americas. Dr. Lauro Severiano Müller, the new Minister of Foreign Affairs, is a worthy successor of Baron de Rio Branco. There are many other persons of positive genius, such as Senator Alcindo Guanabara, a man of remarkable literary ability, and one of the few men in Brazil who realize thoroughly the true wants of the Republic, a man of large views, who is anxious to see his country opened up and properly developed. Another remarkable man is Dr. José Carlos Rodriguez, the proprietor of the leading newspaper in Rio—the Jornal do Commercio—and the organizing genius of some of the most important Brazilian commercial ventures. Having had an American and English education, Dr. Rodriguez has been able to establish in Rio the best edited and produced daily newspaper in the world. Its complete service of telegraphic news from all over the globe—on a scale which no paper, even in England, can equal or even approach—the moderate tone and seriousness of its[8] leading articles, its highly reliable and instructive columns on all possible kinds of subjects by a specially able staff of the cleverest writers in Brazil, and the refined style in which it is printed, do great honour to Dr. Rodriguez. Then comes another man of genius—Dr. Francisco Pereira Passos, who, with Dr. Paulo de Frontin, has been able in a few years to transform Rio de Janeiro from one of the dirtiest and ugliest cities in South America into the most beautiful. The great drive around the beautiful bay, the spacious new Avenida Central—with its parallel avenues of great width—the construction of a magnificently appointed municipal theatre, the heavenly road along the Tijuca mountains encircling and overlooking the great harbour, and a thousand other improvements of the city are due to those two men. Dr. Paulo Frontin has also been active in developing the network of railways in Brazil. Whatever he has undertaken, he has accomplished with great judgment and skill.

Rio de Janeiro as it was in 1903.

It would be impossible to enumerate here all the clever men of Brazil. They are indeed too numerous. The older generation has worked at great disadvantage owing to the difficulty of obtaining proper education. Many are the illiterate or almost illiterate people one finds even among the better classes. Now, however, excellent and most up-to-date schools have been established in the principal cities, and with the great enthusiasm and natural facility in learning of the younger generations wonderful results have been obtained. On account partly of the exhausting climate and the indolent life that Brazilians are inclined to lead, a good deal of the enthusiasm of youth dies out[9] in later years; still Brazil has in its younger generation a great many men who are ambitious and heartily wish to render their country service. It is to be hoped that their efforts may be crowned with success. It is not talent which is lacking in Brazil, it is not patriotism; but persistence is not perhaps the chief characteristic among races of Portuguese descent. In these days of competition it is difficult to accomplish anything great without labour and trouble.

I left London on December 23rd, 1910, by the Royal Mail steamship Amazon, one of the most comfortable steamers I have ever been on.

We touched at Madeira, Pernambuco, and then at Bahia. Bahia seen from the sea was quite picturesque, with its two horizontal lines of buildings, one on the summit of a low hill-range, the other along the water line. A border of deep green vegetation separated the lower from the upper town. A massive red building stood prominent almost in the centre of the upper town, and also a number of church towers, the high dome of a church crowning the highest point.

I arrived in Rio de Janeiro on January 9th, 1911.

It is no use my giving a description of the city of Rio de Janeiro. Everybody knows that it is—from a pictorial point of view—quite a heavenly spot. Few seaside cities on earth can expect to have such a glorious background of fantastic mountains, and at the same time be situated on one of the most wonderful harbours known. I have personally seen a harbour which was quite as strangely interesting as the Rio harbour—but there was no city on it. It was the Malampaya Sound, on the Island of Palawan (Philippine Archipelago).[10] But such an ensemble of Nature's wonderful work combined with man's cannot, to the best of my knowledge, be found anywhere else than in Rio.

It does not do to examine everything too closely in detail when you land—for while there are buildings of beautiful architectural lines, there are others which suggest the work of a pastrycook. To any one coming direct from Europe some of the statuary by local talent which adorns the principal squares gives a severe shock. Ladies in evening dress and naked cupids in bronze flying through national flags flapping in the wind, half of their bodies on one side, the other half on the other side of the flags, look somewhat grotesque as you approach the statues from behind. But Rio is not the only place where you see grotesque statuary—you have not to go far from or even out of London to receive similar and worse shocks. If Rio has some bad statues it also possesses some remarkably beautiful ones by the sculptor Bernardelli—a wonderful genius who is now at the head of the Academy of Fine Arts in Rio. This man has had a marvellous influence in the beautifying of the city, and to him are due the impressive lines of the finest buildings in Rio, such as the Academy of Fine Arts. Naturally, in a young country like Brazil—I am speaking of new Brazil, now wide awake, not of the Brazil which has been asleep for some decades—perfection cannot be reached in everything in one day. It is really marvellous how much the Brazilians have been able to accomplish during the last ten years or so in their cities, on or near the coast.

Brazilians have their own way of thinking, which is not ours, and which is to us almost incomprehensible.[11] They are most indirect in their thoughts and deeds—a characteristic which is purely racial, and which they themselves cannot appreciate, but which often shocks Europeans. For instance, one of the most palatial buildings in the Avenida Central was built only a short time ago. In it, as became such an up-to-date building, was established a lift. But do you think that the architect, like all other architects anywhere else in the world, would make the lift start from the ground floor? No, indeed. The lift only starts from the second floor up—and, if I remember rightly, you have to walk some thirty-eight steps up a grand staircase before you reach it! Do you know why? Because the architect wished to compel all visitors to the building to admire a window of gaudy coloured glass half-way up the staircase. In this way they reason about nearly everything. They have not yet mastered the importance and due proportion of detail. Frequently what is to us a trifling detail is placed by them in the forefront as the most important point of whatever they undertake.

Thanks to the strong credentials I carried—among which were letters from H.E. Regis de Oliveira, Brazilian Minister in London—I was received in Rio de Janeiro with the utmost consideration and kindness. From the President of the Republic to the humblest citizens, all with no exception treated me with charming civility. My stay in Rio was a delightful one. The Brazilians of the principal cities were most courteous and accomplished, and it was a great pleasure to associate with them. Intense interest was shown by the Government of the country and by the people in[12] my plan to cross the continent. Dr. Pedro de Toledo, the Minister of Agriculture, was specially interested in the scheme, and it was at first suggested that the expedition should be an Anglo-Brazilian one, and that I should be accompanied by Brazilian officers and soldiers. Colonel Rondon, a well-known and brave officer, was ordered by the Government to find suitable volunteers in the army to accompany my expedition. After a long delay, Colonel Rondon informed me that his search had been unsuccessful. Colonel Rondon said he would have gladly accompanied the expedition himself, had he not been detained in Rio by his duties as Chief of the Bureau for the Protection and Civilization of the Indians. Another officer offered his services in a private capacity, but he having become involved in a lawsuit, the negotiations were suddenly interrupted.

Dr. Pedro de Toledo, Minister of Agriculture, Brazil.

I endeavoured to find suitable civilians. No one would go. The Brazilian forest, they all said, was worse, more impenetrable than any forest in the world. Brazilian rivers were broader, deeper and more dangerous than any river on earth. Wild beasts in Brazil were more numerous and wilder than the wildest animals of Africa or Asia. As for the Indians of Central Brazil, they were innumerable—millions of them—and ferocious beyond all conception. They were treacherous cannibals, and unfortunate was the person who ventured among them. They told stories galore of how the few who had gone had never come back. Then the insects, the climate, the terrible diseases of Central Brazil were worse than any insect, any climate, any terrible disease anywhere. That is more or less the talk one hears in every country when about to start on an expedition.

[13] I had prepared my expedition carefully, at a cost of some £2,000 for outfit. Few private expeditions have ever started better equipped. I carried ample provisions for one year (tinned meats, vegetables, 1,000 boxes of sardines, fruits, jams, biscuits, chocolate, cocoa, coffee, tea, etc.), two serviceable light tents, two complete sets of instruments for astronomical and meteorological observations, and all the instruments necessary for making an accurate survey of the country traversed. Four excellent aneroids—which had been specially constructed for me—and a well-made hypsometrical apparatus with six boiling-point thermometers, duly tested at the Kew Observatory, were carried in order to determine accurately the altitudes observed. Then I possessed two prismatic and six other excellent compasses, chronometers, six photographic cameras, specially made for me, with the very best Zeiss and Goertz lenses, and some 1,400 glass photographic plates—including some for colour photography. All articles liable to be injured by heat and damp were duly packed in air- and water-tight metal cases with outer covers of wood. Then I carried all the instruments necessary for anthropometric work, and painting materials for recording views and scenes in colours when the camera could not be used, as at night or when the daylight was insufficient. I had a complete supply of spades, picks, large saws, axes, and heavy-bladed knives (two feet long) for cutting our way through the forest, making roads and constructing rafts, canoes and temporary bridges.

I carried, as usual, very little medicine—merely three gallons of castor oil, a few bottles of iodine, some[14] formiate of quinine, strong carbolic and arsenical soaps, permanganate and other powerful disinfectants, caustic—that was about all. These medicines were mostly to be used, if necessary, upon my men and not upon myself.

I had twelve of the best repeating rifles that are made, as well as excellent automatic pistols of the most modern type, and several thousand rounds of ammunition—chiefly soft-nosed bullets. These weapons were carried in order to arm my followers. Although I had several first-class rifles for my own use—following my usual custom, I never myself carried any weapons—not even a penknife—upon my person except when actually going after game. Again on this occasion—as on previous journeys—I did not masquerade about in fancy costumes such as are imagined to be worn by explorers, with straps and buckles and patent arrangements all over. I merely wore a sack coat with ample pockets, over long trousers such as I use in town. Nor did I wear any special boots. I always wore comfortable clothes everywhere, and made no difference in my attire between the Brazilian forest and Piccadilly, London. When it got too hot, naturally I removed the coat and remained in shirt sleeves; but that was all the difference I ever made in my wearing apparel between London and Central Brazil. I have never in my life adopted a sun helmet—the most absurd, uncomfortable and grotesque headgear that was ever invented. I find, personally, that a common straw hat provides as much protection as any healthy person requires from the equatorial sun.

If I give these details, it is merely because they[15] might be of some use to others—not because I wish to advertise these facts; and also, if I do not give the names of the firms which supplied the various articles, it is because—unlike many other explorers—I have been in the custom of never letting my name be used in any way whatever for advertising purposes.

There are many people who are enthusiastic over a dangerous project when they first hear of it, but on thinking it over and talking with friends and relatives their enthusiasm soon wears off. That is what happened in Rio. I wasted some time in Rio—socially most enjoyably employed—in order to get followers and come to some suitable arrangement with the Government. I was deeply indebted to the Minister of Agriculture, Dr. Pedro de Toledo, for allowing me the free use of all the telegraphs in Brazil, and also for a special permission (of which I never availed myself) to use, if necessary, the flotilla of Government boats on the Amazon. Credentials were also furnished me, but owing to the way in which they were worded they were more of a danger to me than a protection. They actually proved to be so once or twice when I was compelled to present them. The expedition was considered so dangerous that the Government published broadcast statements in the official and other papers stating that "Mr. A. H. Savage Landor's expedition across Brazil was undertaken solely at his own initiative and absolutely at his own risk and responsibility." They also circulated widely the statement that I had promised not in any way to injure or hurt the native Indians, that I would not supply them with firearms of any kind, and that I would in no way ill-treat them.[16] I had gladly promised all that. I had not even dreamt of doing any of those things to the natives, and naturally I strictly kept my promise.

In a luxurious Administration car placed at my disposal by Dr. Paulo Frontin I left Rio by the Central Railway, escorted as far as S. Paulo by Dr. Carlo da Fonseca, a railway engineer, sent to look after my comfort by the Central Brazilian Railway Company.

On approaching S. Paulo in the early morning I was much struck by the activity of the waking city as compared with Rio. Carts were dashing to and fro in the streets, the people walked along fast as if they had something to do, and numerous factory chimneys ejected clouds of smoke, puffing away in great white balls. The people stopped to chat away briskly as if they had some life in them. It seemed almost as if we had suddenly dropped into an active commercial European city. The type of people, their ways and manners were different from those of the people of Rio—but equally civil, equally charming to me from the moment I landed at the handsome railway station.

With a delicious climate—owing to its elevation—with a population of energetic people chiefly of Italian origin, instead of the apathetic mixture of Portuguese and negro, S. Paulo was indeed the most flourishing city of the Brazilian Republic. Its yearly development was enormous. Architecturally it was gradually becoming modified and improved, so that in a few years it will be a very beautiful city indeed. Already the city possessed beautiful avenues and a wonderful theatre.

Senador Alcindo Guanabara, a great Literary Genius and Patriot of Brazil.

Everybody knows what an important part the[17] enterprising people of S. Paulo have played in the expansion and colonization of the central and southern regions of Brazil. The early activity of the Paulistas—it dates back to 1531—can be traced from the River Plate on the south, to the head waters of the Madeira in Matto Grosso on the east, and as far as Piantry on the north.

I cannot indulge here, as I should like to do, in giving a complete historical sketch of the amazing daring and enterprise of those early explorers and adventurers and of their really remarkable achievements. Their raids extended to territories of South America which are to-day almost impenetrable. It was really wonderful how they were able to locate and exploit many of the most important mines within an immense radius of their base.

The history of the famous Bandeiras, under the command of Raposo, and composed of Mamelucos (crosses of Portuguese and Indians) and Tupy Indians, the latter a hardy and bold race, which started out on slave-hunting expeditions, is thrilling beyond words and reads almost like fiction. The ways of the Bandeirantes were sinister. They managed to capture immense numbers of slaves, and must have killed as many as they were able to bring back or more. They managed, therefore, to depopulate the country almost entirely, the few tribes that contrived to escape destruction seeking refuge farther west upon the slopes of the Andes.

Although the Brazilians—even in official statistics—estimate the number of pure savage Indians in the interior at several millions, I think that the readers of[18] this book will be convinced, as I was in my journey across the widest and wildest part of Brazil, that perhaps a few hundreds would be a more correct estimate. Counting half-castes, second, third and fourth crosses, and Indians who have entirely adopted Portuguese ways, language and clothes, they may perhaps amount to several thousand—but that is all.

The Jesuits endeavoured to save the Indians from the too-enterprising Bandeirantes, with the result that the missions were destroyed also and the missionaries driven away or killed.

Brazil occupies to-day in the world's knowledge practically the same position that forbidden Tibet occupied some fifteen or twenty years ago. It was easier to travel all over Brazil centuries ago than now.

The Bandeirantes became extraordinarily daring. In 1641 another slave-hunting Paulista expedition started out to sack the missions of Paraguay and make great hauls of converted Indians. The adventurers invaded even the impenetrable territory of the Chaco. But, history tells us, the Jesuits, who were well prepared for war, were not only able to trap the 400 Paulista Bandeirantes in an ambuscade and to set free their prisoners, but killed a great number of them, 120 of the adventurous Bandeirantes thus supplying a handsome dinner for the cannibal Chaco Indians. Infuriated at the reverse, the survivors of the expedition destroyed all the missions and Indian villages upon their passage, not one escaping. They came to grief, however, in the end. Few only returned home to tell the tale. That lesson practically ended the slave-hunting expeditions on a large scale of the[19] Bandeirantes, but not the expeditions of parties in search of gold and diamonds, many of which were extraordinarily successful. Minor expeditions were undertaken in which Paulista adventurers were employed under contract in various parts of Brazil for such purposes as to fight the Indians or to break up the so-called Republic of the Palmeiras—an unpleasant congregation of negroes and Indians.

The astonishing success which the dauntless Paulistas had obtained everywhere made them thirst for gold and diamonds, which they knew existed in the interior. They set out in great numbers—men, women, and children—in search of wealth and fresh adventure. Several of the towns in distant parts of the interior of Brazil owe their origin to this great band of adventurers, especially in the section of Brazil now called Minas Geraes. The adventurers were eventually outnumbered and overpowered by swarms of Brazilians from other parts of the country, and by Portuguese who had quickly arrived in order to share in the wealth discovered by the Paulistas. They finally had to abandon the mines which they had conquered at an appalling loss of human life.

The ardour of the Paulistas was quelled but not extinguished. About the year 1718 they started afresh to the north-west in the direction of the Cuyaba River and of Goyaz, where they had learnt that gold and diamonds of great beauty were to be found. So many joined in these adventurous expeditions that S. Paulo was left almost depopulated. That is how those immense territories of Goyaz and Matto Grosso were discovered and annexed to S. Paulo, but eventually,[20] owing to their size, these became split up into capitaneas, then into states.

The Paulistas were great fighters. In 1739 they were able to drive away the Spaniards from Rio Grande do Sul and forced them to retreat into Uruguay. After many years of vicissitudes in war and exploration—after phases of prosperity, oppression, and even of almost total ruin, owing to maladministration and official greed—things began to look up again for São Paulo when the port of Santos was thrown open to the trade of the world, in 1808. The history of Brazil during the last hundred years is too well known to be repeated here.

During the last few years the State of São Paulo has attained amazing prosperity, principally from the export of coffee—perhaps the most delicious coffee in the world. Although nearly all the rivers of the State of São Paulo are absolutely useless for navigation, owing to dangerous rapids, the State is intersected by innumerable streams, large and small—of great importance for purposes of irrigation and for the generation of electric power. The most important harbour in the State is Santos. Ubatuba, São Sebastião, Iguape and Carranca are ports of less consequence. It is principally from Santos that the exportation of coffee takes place.

The Municipal Theatre, Rio de Janeiro.

The State extends roughly in a parallelogram from the ocean, south-east, to the Parana River, north-west; between the Rio Grande, to the north, and the Rio Paranapanema, to the south, the latter being two tributaries of the Parana River. The State can be divided into two distinct zones, one comprising the[21] low-lying lands of the littoral, the second the tablelands of the interior north-west of the Serra Cadias, Serra do Paranapiacaba and Serra do Mar—along or near the sea-coasts. The first zone by the sea is extremely hot and damp, with swampy and sandy soil often broken up by spurs from the neighbouring hill ranges. It is well suited for the cultivation of rice. The second zone, which covers practically all the elevated country between the coast ranges and the Parana River, is extraordinarily fertile, with a fairly mild climate and abundant rains during the summer months. During the winter the days are generally clear and dry.

It is in that second zone that immense coffee plantations are to be found, the red soil typical of that tableland being particularly suitable for the cultivation of the coffee trees.

It is hardly necessary here to go into detailed statistics, but it may be sufficient to state, on the authority of the Directoria de Estatistica Commercial of Rio de Janeiro, that during the first eleven months of the year 1912, 10,465,435 sacks of coffee were exported from Brazil—mostly from São Paulo—showing an increase of 548,854 sacks on eleven months of the previous year. That means a sum of £40,516,006 sterling, or £5,218,564 more than the previous year; the average value of the coffee being, in 1912, 58,071 milreis, or, taking the pound sterling at 15 milreis, £3 17s. 5½d. a sack—an increase in price of 4,628 reis = 6s. 2d. per sack, on the sales of 1911.

The other exports from the State of São Paulo are flour, mandioca, cassava, bran, tanned hides, horns,[22] fruit (pineapples, bananas, cocoanuts, abacates (alligator pears), oranges, tangerines, etc.), wax, timber (chiefly jacarandà or rosewood), a yearly decreasing quantity of cotton, steel and iron, mica, goldsmith's dust, dried and preserved fish, scrap sole leather, salted and dry hides, wool, castor seed or bean, crystal, mate, rice, sugar, rum (aguardente) and other articles of minor importance.

The area of the State of São Paulo has been put down at 290,876 sq. kil.

Its population in 1908 was calculated at 3,397,000, and it had then more inhabitants to the square kilometre than any other part of Brazil. It is useless to give actual figures of the population, for none are reliable. Although this State is the most civilized in Brazil, yet a good portion of its western territory is still practically a terra incognita, so that even the best official figures are mere guess-work.

Owing to the wonderful foresight of that great man, Antonio Prado—to my mind the greatest man in Brazil—a new industry has been started in the State of São Paulo which promises to be as lucrative and perhaps more so than the cultivation of coffee. It is the breeding of cattle on a gigantic scale, the magnificent prairies near Barretos, in the northern part of the State, being employed for the purpose. Slaughter-houses and refrigerating plants of the most modern type are to be established there, and with such a practical man as Antonio Prado at the head of the enterprise, the scheme is bound, I should think, to be a success. With the population of the Republic gradually increasing—it could be centupled and there would still[23] be plenty of room for as many people again—the São Paulo State will one day supply most of the meat for the principal markets of Brazil. A good deal of the cattle which will eventually be raised on the marvellous campos of Matto Grosso and Goyaz, and destined to Southern Brazilian markets, will find its way to the coast via São Paulo. The rest will travel perhaps via Minas Geraes.

For some years cattle breeding has been carried on successfully enough, but on a comparatively small scale, in this State. Experiments have been made in crossing the best local breeds, principally the Caracù, with good foreign breeds, such as the Jersey, Durham and Dutch stocks. Pigs of the Berkshire, Yorkshire, Canasters and Tatus type are the favourites in São Paulo, and seem to flourish in that climate.

Sheep-breeding is also successful, and would be even more so if proper care were taken of the animals. Of the wool-producing kinds, those preferred are the Leicester, Merino, Oxford and Lincoln, the Oxford having already produced quite excellent results.

The Government of the State, I understand, is at present giving great attention to the matter, and is using discrimination in the selection of suitable breeds from foreign countries in order to procure the best animals of various kinds for the production of meat, butter, and hides. I also believe that an endeavour is being made to produce in the State a good breed of horses for military and other purposes.

The elevation of São Paulo city is 2,450 ft. above the sea level.

Thanks to the kindness of the President of the[24] Paulista Railway, a special saloon carriage was placed at my disposal when I left São Paulo, and a railway inspector sent to escort me and furnish me with any information I required. I preferred travelling seated in front of the engine, where I could obtain the full view of the interesting scenery through which we were to pass.

Baron de Rio Branco.

The Paulista Railway was interesting, as it was the first line in Brazil constructed entirely with Brazilian capital. The line was begun in 1870, but since that date several extensions have been successfully laid out. Up to 1909 the lines owned and worked by the Paulista Railway were the 1·60-metre-gauge trunk line from Jundiahy to Descalvado (north of S. Paulo), and the two branch lines of the same gauge from Cordeiro to Rio Claro; Laranja Azeda to S. Veridiana; the two branch lines of 0·60 m. gauge from Descalvado to Aurora and from Porto Ferreira to S. Rita do Passo Quatro. Then they possessed the one-metre trunk line from Rio Claro to Araraquara, with the following branch and extension lines: Visconde de Rio Claro to Jahu; Araraquara to Jaboticabal; Bebedouro to Barretos; Mogy Guasso Rincão to Pontal; S. Carlos to S. Euxodia and Rib. Bonita; Agudos to Dois Corregos and Piratininga; and the loop line through Brotas. Of the total charters for 1,114 kil. 261 have been granted by the Federal Government and are under their supervision, whereas 583 kil. are under charter granted by the State of São Paulo.

The following statistics taken from the last Brazilian Year Book show the wonderful development of the passenger and goods traffic on the Paulista Railway:—

[25]

At Jundiahy the Paulista Company has extensive repairing shops for engines. Formerly they had there also shops for building carriages, but these are now constructed at the Rio Claro Station, partly from material which comes from abroad. The rolling stock of the Company is excellent in every way—quite up-to-date, and kept in good condition—almost too luxurious for the kind of passengers it has to carry.

It is principally after leaving Campinas that the scenery of the line is really beautiful—wonderful undulating country—but with no habitations, except, perhaps, a few miserable sheds miles and miles apart. At Nueva Odena the Government is experimenting with Russian and Italian labourers, for whom it has built a neat little colony. After a time each labourer becomes the owner of the land he has cultivated. I am told that the colony is a success.

[26]

My object in travelling by the Paulista Railway was to inspect the line on my way to the immense coffee plantations at Martinho Prado, owned by Conselheiro Antonio Prado. The estate is situated at an elevation above the sea level of 1,780 ft., upon fertile red soil. It is difficult, without seeing them, to realize the extent and beauty of those coffee groves—miles and miles of parallel lines of trees of a healthy, dark green, shining foliage. A full-grown coffee tree, as everybody knows, varies in height from 6 ft. to 14 or 15 ft. according to the variety, the climate, and quality of the soil. It possesses a slender stem, straight and polished, seldom larger than 3 to 5 in. in diameter, from which shoot out horizontal or slightly oblique branches—the larger quite close to the soil—which gradually diminish in length to its summit. The small white blossom of the coffee tree is not unlike jessamine in shape and also in odour. The fruit, green in its youth, gradually becomes of a yellowish tint and then of a bright vermilion when quite ripe—except in the Botucatú kind, which remains yellow to the end.

The fruit contains within a pericarp a pulp slightly[27] viscous and sweet, within which, covered by a membrane, are the two hemispherical coffee beans placed face to face and each covered by a tender pellicle. It is not unusual to find a single bean in the fruit, which then takes the shape of an ellipsoid grooved in its longer axis—and this is called moka owing to the resemblance which it bears to the coffee of that name.

The coffee chiefly cultivated in Brazil is the Arabica L. and to a small extent also the Liberica Hiern, but other varieties have developed from those, and there are crosses of local kinds such as the Maragogype, which takes its name from the place where it was discovered (Bahia Province). Those varieties are locally known as Creoulo, Bourbon, Java, Botucatú (or yellow bean coffee), the Maragogype, and the Goyaz. The Creoulo, the Botucatú and the Maragogype are wilder and show more resistance than the Java and Bourbon sorts, which are nevertheless more productive under good conditions and with careful cultivation, which the first three qualities do not exact.

The coffee tree is a most serviceable plant, every part of which can be used. Its wood is much used in cabinet making, and makes excellent fuel; its leaves, properly torrefied, and then stewed in boiling water, give a palatable kind of tea; from the sweet pulp of its fruit an agreeable liqueur can be distilled; from its beans can be made the beverage we all know, and from the shells and residue of the fruit a good fertilizer can be produced.

The chemical examination of the cinders of the coffee bean shows that it contains 65·25 per cent of potash, 12·53 per cent of phosphoric acid, 11·00 per[28] cent of magnesia, 6·12 per cent of lime, and some traces of sulphuric and salicylic acid, oxide of iron and chlorine.

An interesting study has been made by Dr. Dafert of the weight of the various components of the coffee tree at different ages, from which it appears that the proportion of potash increases progressively in the organs as they are more and more distant from the roots. The contrary is the case with lime and phosphoric acid, which preponderate generally in the seeds.

With this knowledge a scientific cultivator can judge exactly how to treat the exigencies of the different trees at different ages. Naturally, the condition of the soil has to be taken into consideration in any case. According to experiments made by Dr. Dafert each kilo of coffee beans has extracted from the soil—potash 0·7880 gramme; phosphoric acid 0·4020 gramme; magnesia 0·3240 gramme; lime 0·1470 gramme.

These experiments apply merely to coffee grown in Brazil, and are no doubt at variance with experiments on coffee grown elsewhere. Taking all things into consideration, it has been proved by chemical analysis that the Brazilian coffee comes as near as any in its components to what the normal or perfect coffee should be.

The soil, the elevation of the land, the zone and the climate naturally have considerable influence on the quality of the coffee. The Coffea Arabica seems to feel happy enough in a temperate zone and at elevations from 1,500 to 2,300 ft. The States of São Paulo, Minas Geraes, Rio de Janeiro and Espirito Santo fulfil most if not all these conditions.

Dr. Passos.

The coffee trees can stand cold—if not of long[29] duration—down to freezing-point, as well as a fairly high temperature. Unlike the Liberia coffee, they fare better on undulating or broken ground than on the flat.

Two distinct seasons—the dry and the rainy—each of about six months' duration—such as are found in the above-mentioned States of Brazil, seem perfectly to suit the growth of the coffee trees. The trees are in bloom for three or four days some time during the months of September to December. If the rains are not abundant when the trees are in blossom, and during the maturing of the fruits, the latter do not develop properly, especially those at the end of the branches, where the berries become dry before their time or even do not form. If the rain comes too long before the trees are in bloom it causes the blossoms to open before their time and they are frequently spoiled by the cold which follows. The coffee beans are collected in April, during the dry weather.

The coffee trees are very sensitive to winds, cold or hot, especially when blowing continuously in the same direction, which causes the undue fall of leaves and rupture of the bark at the neck of the roots. Wind, indeed, is one of the most dangerous enemies of coffee trees, and it is to obviate this danger that in many countries—but not in Brazil—a protecting plantation in lines of other trees—generally useful fruit trees—is adopted in order to screen the coffee trees from the prevailing wind, as well as to give a further income from the fruit produced.

It has been proved that even from good trees below a certain altitude the coffee is of inferior quality, while[30] above that height the crop becomes irregular. In zones fully exposed to the sun the quality is superior to that of regions where the sun does not reach or only reaches for a short portion of the day.

The Coffea Arabica is not particularly exacting in the quality of the soil, but the soil on which it flourishes best is that formed in great part by decomposed vegetable matter—as, for instance, from ancient trees mixed with volcanic earth, such as the famous red earth of the State of São Paulo. Volcanic cinders also are said to be wonderful fertilizers for the soil, and well adapted for the welfare of coffee trees.

One thing is undoubted, and that is that the State of São Paulo possesses the ideal soil for coffee plantations. Analysis has shown that, curiously enough, the soil of São Paulo is not in itself very rich. It has an insufficient quantity of fertilizing substances, particularly of lime; but it should not be forgotten that locality and climatic conditions must be taken into serious consideration, and that we must not be misled by the difference between the apparent and the real fertility of the soil. What would be a poor soil in Europe may prove to be an excellent one in a tropical country. So the famous "red earth" of São Paulo, which in a drier climate would be sterile and unproductive, is there excellent because of its extremely permeable, porous and powdery qualities.

The special terms used for naming the different kinds of earth suitable for the cultivation of coffee are: terra roxa (red earth), massapé, salmorão, catanduva, terra de areia (sand earth), picarra (stony earth), and pedreguelho (stony earth).

[31] The terra roxa is an argillaceous, ferruginous earth of diabasic origin, occasionally mixed with sand. It contains salicylic acid, oxide of iron, alumina, phosphoric acid, oxide of manganese, lime, magnesia, potash and soda.

The massapé, originally decomposed gneiss-granitic rock mixed with clay, contains oxide of iron. Its occasional blackness is due to the decomposed vegetable matter it embodies.

The salmorão includes in its formation small stones indicating the incomplete decomposition of the rock from which it originates.

The catanduva—which is of inferior quality—is composed of much disintegrated vegetable matter and fine dust.

The names of the other kinds of earth well denote their quality.

One reason why coffee cultivation is so popular in Brazil is because of the general belief that no trouble is required to look after the trees—a very mistaken notion indeed. There is a marked difference between plantations carefully looked after and those that are not. More than usual care must be taken to select the seed for new plantations. The young plants must get strong in a nursery and then be transplanted into proper soil, the prudent distance between trees being generally from 9 to 12 ft. For the convenience of collecting the beans and keeping the soil clean, a perfect alignment in all directions is necessary. The most suitable month for planting coffee in Brazil, according to the authority of Dr. Dafert, is the month of July.

Great care must be taken of the trees themselves[32] and of the soil around the trees, which must be kept clean and absolutely free from grass. The capillary roots of the trees extending horizontally near the surface of the soil are much affected by the presence of any other vegetation, and by the collection of insects which this produces and harbours. Frost, rain, and the heat of the sun naturally affect the trees more when the soil is dirty than when kept clean. Many of the coffee estates suffer considerably from insufficient labour. The effects of this are quickly visible on the trees. Artificial fertilization is useful, even necessary after a number of years, and so is careful pruning in order to keep the trees healthy, strong and clean.

A Beautiful Waterfall at Theresopolis.

Antonio Prado's Coffee Estate.

Coffee trees have many natural enemies—chiefly vegetable and animal parasites—which mostly attack the leaves. The Ramularia Goeldiana, a parasite not unlike the Cercospora Coffeicola, is one of the worst, and undoubtedly the chief offender in Brazil, although great is the number of insects prejudicial to the trees. The most terrible of all, perhaps, are the ants and termites, such as the Termes opacus, which attack and destroy the roots of young trees. The cupim (Termes album) or white ant, and the carregador or Sauba, a giant ant with which we shall get fully acquainted later on our journey, are implacable enemies of all plants. Also the quen-quen, another kind of ant. These ants are so numerous that it is almost an impossibility to extirpate them. Various ways are suggested for their destruction, but none are really effective. Certain larvæ, flies and cochinilla, owing to their sucking habits, deposit on the leaves and branches a viscous sugary substance, which, on account of the[33] heat, causes fermentation known locally as fumagina. This produces great damage. Birds pick and destroy the berries when ripe; and caterpillars are responsible for the absolute devastation of many coffee districts in the Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo States. Other pests of the Heteroptera type attack the roots to such an extent as to cause the death of the trees.

Among the diseases of the trees are the Aphelencus Coffeæ and the Loranthus brasiliensis—the latter a terrible parasite which quickly envelops the stem and branches of the tree and ends by killing it.

The collection of the berries is the busiest process in the fazendas, and has to be performed with considerable care, for some of the berries are already ripe and dried when others hidden under the branches have not yet reached the required degree of maturity. An experienced hand can collect from 400 to 450 litres of coffee berries per day. It takes an average of 100 litres of coffee berries to produce 15 kilos of prepared coffee beans ready to be shipped. The crop is not the same every year. After one plentiful crop there generally succeeds one year, sometimes two or three, of poor—almost insignificant—collections, varying according to the care that is taken of the trees and the soil.

When once the coffee has been collected and transported to the fazenda in baskets, blankets and sheets, it is necessary to remove the skin and viscous pulpy matter which envelop the beans. This is done partly by maceration in water tanks, and afterwards by drying upon extensive flat terraces, tiled or cemented, and locally called terreiro. The process of drying by machinery has not been adopted in Brazil; principally[34] because of its high cost. The coffee is first placed for some days in mounds on the terraces, until fermentation of the outer skin begins, which afterwards hastens desiccation when coffee is spread flat in a thin layer on the terraces. When once the coffee berries have been freed from their pulpy envelope and skin, the desiccation—if the weather is propitious—takes place in a few days. Care must be taken to move the berries constantly, so that they dry evenly on all sides, as perfect desiccation is necessary in order to preserve the coffee in good condition after it is packed for shipment.

There are two ways of preparing coffee for export—the humid and the dry. In the humid process the berries are placed in a special machine called despolpadore, which leaves the beans merely covered and held together in couples by the membrane immediately enclosing them after the skin and viscous sugary coating have been removed. Those coffees are called in commerce, lavados, or washed.

The dry process consists, after the berries have been skinned and dried, in removing part of the pulp and membrane in a special machine and a series of ventilators. They are then quite ready for export.

The preparation of coffee from the drying terraces is slightly more complicated. The coffee passes through a first ventilator, which frees it from impurities such as earth, stems, stones, filaments, etc.; from this it is conveyed by means of an elevator into the descascador, where the membrane is removed. Subsequently it passes through a series of other ventilators, which eliminate whatever impurities have remained and[35] convey the coffee into a polishing machine (brunidor). There the coffee is subjected to violent friction, which not only removes the last atoms of impurity but gives the beans a finishing polish. The coffee is then ready for the market.

I spent a most instructive day inspecting the fazenda of Conselheiro Antonio Prado and having things clearly explained by his intelligent overseer, Mr. Henrique P. Ribeiro.

From that place I drove across country, through endless groves of coffee trees—for miles and miles—as far as the next great coffee estate, belonging to the Dumont Company, an English concern, with an authorized capital of £800,000, the estates being valued at £1,200,000. It is not often one sees an estate so beautifully managed and looked after in a country like Brazil. The buildings, the machinery, the "drying terraces," everything was in capital order. To indicate on what scale the Company does business, it will be sufficient to state that in 1911 the coffee crop amounted to 109,368 cwts., which realized on a gross average 56s. 10½d. per cwt. This crop was not as plentiful as in the previous year, when 110,558 cwts. were harvested. The gross profit for the year up to June 21st, 1911, was £123,811 2s. 5d., which, less London charges, still showed the substantial sum of £119,387 11s. 8d. There had been a considerable rise in the rate at which coffee was sold in 1911—viz., 56s. 10½d. per cwt. as compared with 41s. 8½d. the previous year; but notwithstanding the high price, the high rate of exchange, and the cost of laying the coffee down in London—which had risen on the estate by 1s. 11½d. and by 1s. 3½d.[36] in respect of charges between the estate and London, the Company had been able to earn a profit of 20s. 4¾d. per cwt.

I was taken round the estate by Mr. J. A. Davy, the general manager, whose good and sensible work was noticeable at every turn. The trees seemed in excellent condition and likely to have a long life on the specially suitable rich red soil, and with sufficient breathing space allowed to maintain them in good health. The soil was of such unusual richness in that particular spot that no artificial stimulation was required in order to keep the trees healthy and vigorous. One could walk for miles and miles along the beautiful groves of coffee trees, clean-looking with their rich deep green foliage.

They seemed to have no great difficulty on the Dumont estate in obtaining sufficient labour—greatly, I think, owing to the fair way in which labourers were treated. Mr. Davy told me that over an area of 13,261 acres a crop had been maintained which averaged 8¼ cwts. per acre.

Experiments have also been made on the Dumont Estate (at an elevation of 2,100 ft. above the sea level)—chiefly, I believe, to satisfy the wish of shareholders in London—in the cultivation of rubber, but it did not prove a success—as was, after all, to be expected. It is not easy to make the majority of people understand that coffee grows lustily in that particular part of the State of São Paulo mainly because of the eminently suitable quality of the soil; but it does not at all follow that soil or climatic conditions which are good for coffee are suitable for rubber trees, or vice versa.[37] In the case of the Dumont Estates, although the best possible land was chosen and three different varieties of rubber—the Pará, Ceará and the Castilloa were experimented with, it was soon discovered that only one kind—the Ceará—attained any growth at all, and this gave very little latex—owing undoubtedly to the nature of the soil and the climate. The cost of extracting the latex was prohibitive. With wages at four shillings a day a man could collect about one-third of a pound of latex a day. Rubber trees could, in that region, not be expected to produce more than one-fifth of a pound of rubber a year, so that the cost of collecting and shipping rubber from ten-year-old trees would amount to 3s. 3d. per lb., without counting the cost of planting and upkeep.

By a special train on the Dumont Railway line I travelled across beautiful country—all coffee plantations—the property of the Dumont Company and of Colonel Schmidt, the "Coffee King," whose magnificent estate lies along the Dumont Railway line. I regretted that I could not visit this great estate also, but I was most anxious to get on with my journey and get away as soon as possible from civilization. It was pleasant to see that no rivalry existed between the various larger estates, and I learnt that the Dumont Railway actually carried—for a consideration, naturally—all the coffee from the Schmidt Estate to the Riberão Preto station on the Mogyana Railway.

[38]

I arrived at Riberão Preto at 3.45 p.m. on March 29th. Riberão Preto—421 kil. N.N.W. of São Paulo and 500 kil. from Santos—is without doubt the most important commercial centre in the northern part of the State of São Paulo, and is a handsome active city, neat and clean-looking, with an Italian, Spanish and Portuguese population of some 25,000 souls. Its elevation above the sea level is 1,950 ft. The people of Riberão Preto subsist chiefly on the coffee industry. There are one or two theatres in the city, the principal being a provincial one. There are several hotels of various degrees of cleanliness and several industrial establishments. Unlike other cities of the interior, Riberão Preto boasts of a good supply of agua potavel (drinking water), and the town is lighted by the electric light.

The value of land in the vicinity of Riberão Preto varies from 300 milreis to 1,500 milreis for the alqueire, a price far superior to that of other localities on the same line, where cultivated land can be purchased at 300 milreis an alqueire and pasture land at 100 milreis.

At Riberão Preto I was to leave the Dumont Railway. Special arrangements had been made for me to meet at that station a special Administration car which[39] was to be attached to the ordinary express train on the Mogyana Railway line.

I had been warned at the Dumont Estate that a brass band had been sent to the Riberão Preto station, where some notabilities were awaiting my arrival in order to greet me with the usual speeches of welcome. As I particularly dislike public speaking and publicity, I managed to mix unseen among the crowd—they expecting to see an explorer fully armed and in khaki clothes of special cut as represented in illustrated papers. It was with some relief that I saw them departing, with disappointed faces, and with their brass instruments, big drums and all, after they had entered the luxurious special car placed at my disposal by the Mogyana Railway and found it empty—I humbly watching the proceedings some distance away from the platform.

Thanks to the splendid arrangements which had been made for me by Dr. José Pereira Rebonças, the President of the Mogyana, I was able to take a most instructive journey on that line, the Traffic Superintendent, Mr. Vicente Bittencourt, having been instructed to accompany me and furnish all possible information.

A few words of praise are justly due to the Mogyana line for the excellence of the service and the perfection of the rolling stock. I inspected the entire train and was amazed to find such beautiful and comfortable carriages, provided with the latest improvements for passengers of all classes. It is seldom I have seen in any country a train look so "smart" as the one in which I travelled from Riberão Preto to the terminus of the line. The appointments of every kind were[40] perfect, the train ran in excellent time, and very smoothly over well-laid rails. The special car in which I travelled was "palatial and replete with every comfort," if I may use the stock words invariably applied to railway travelling.

Here are a few interesting points regarding the Mogyana Railway.

By a provincial law (São Paulo) of March 21st, 1872, a guaranteed interest of 7 per cent on a capital of 3,000,000 milreis was granted for ninety years for the construction of a railway of 1 metre gauge from Campinas to Mogymirim, and of a branch line to Amparo, to the north-east of Campinas and due east of Inguary. By a similar law of March 20th, 1875, a guaranteed interest was granted for thirty years as to the capital of 2,500,000 milreis for a prolongation of the line to Casa Blanca.

By a provincial law (Minas Geraes) of October 1st, 1881, another guarantee was granted of 7 per cent for thirty years, upon a maximum capital of 5,000,000 milreis, for a continuation of the railway through the provincial territory from the right bank of the Rio Grande to the left bank of the Paranahyba River. Finally, by a provincial contract of Minas Geraes of October, 1884, a further guarantee was granted of 7 per cent for thirty years, on a maximum capital of 5,000,000 milreis, for the construction of the prolongation of the railway from its terminal point at the Rio Grande as far as the Paranahyba via the city of Uberaba.

In view of other important concessions obtained, one may consider that the Mogyana Company is perhaps[41] the most important railway concern in Brazil, up to the present time. It does great credit to Brazilians that the railway was constructed almost entirely by capital raised on bonds in Brazil itself, the only foreign loan issued in London being a sum raised amounting merely to £341,000 at an interest of 5 per cent. Between the years 1879 and 1886 the Company returned to the Government of São Paulo the interests received, thus liquidating its debt. A decree of October 18th, 1890, fixed the capital spent on the Rio Grande line and a branch to Caldas at 4,300,000 milreis gold and 1,853,857.750 milreis paper as guarantee of the interest of 6 per cent conceded by the National Treasury.

In the year 1900 the value of interests received amounted to 3,190,520.418 milreis in paper, and 1,963,787.300 milreis in gold, out of which 544,787.300 milreis were in debenture bonds. On the same date the value of interests repaid to the National Treasury amounted to 1,606,578.581 milreis in paper currency.

The federalized lines of the Company were: from Riberão Preto to Rio Grande (concession of 1883); from Rio Grande to Araguary (concession of 1890); with a total extension of 472 kil., and a branch line from Cascavel to Poço de Caldas, 77 kil., the last 17 kil. of which were in the Province of Minas Geraes. The extension from Rio Grande to Araguary, 282 kil., was also situated in the Province of Minas Geraes.

Having dodged the expectant crowd at the station unnoticed, I did not go with the Traffic Superintendent, Mr. Vicente Bittencourt, into the luxurious special car as the train was steaming out of the Riberão Preto station, but preferred to travel in front of the engine[42] so as to get a full view of the beautiful scenery along the line. We went at a good speed over gentle curves rounding hill-sides, the grass of which bent under a light breeze. Here and there stood a minute white cottage—almost toy-like—where coffee gatherers lived. On the left we had a grandiose undulating region—what the Americans would call "rolling country"—combed into thousands of parallel lines of coffee trees, interrupted at intervals by extensive stretches of light green grazing land. Only now and then, as the engine puffed and throbbed under me, did I notice a rectangle of dried brownish yellow, where the farmers had grown their Indian corn. These patches were a great contrast to the interminable mass of rich dark green of the coffee trees and the light green of the prairies.

Near these patches—prominently noticeable in the landscape because so scarce—one invariably saw groups of low whitewashed or red-painted houses, mere humble sheds. Where the land was not yet under cultivation—quite a lot of it—low scrub and stunted trees far apart dotted the landscape.

On nearing villages, as the express dashed through, goats stampeded in all directions: sleepy women and men looked at the train half dazed as it went by, and children, with quite a characteristic gesture, screened their eyes with their elbows to protect them from the dust and wind the train produced. I was astonished to notice how many fair-haired children one saw—curious indeed in a population of Latin races and negroes. That golden hair, however, seemed gradually to grow darker, and became almost black in the older people.

[43] Hideous barbed-wire fences gave a certain air of civilization to those parts, but the landscape was nevertheless getting desolate as we proceeded farther north. Except in the immediate vicinity of habitations, one felt the absolute lack of animal life. Only rarely did we see a black bird of extraordinary elongated form dash frightened across the railway line, much too fast for me to identify to which family it belonged.

One could not help being impressed by the immensity of the landscape, endless sweeping undulation after undulation spreading before us, but not a real mountain in sight. It was like a solid ocean of magnified proportions. Just above the horizon-line a large accumulation of globular clouds of immaculate white intensified the interesting colour-scheme of greens and yellows on the earth's surface to its full value by contrast.

The large proportion of cultivated land which had impressed me so much in the vicinity of Riberão Preto gradually diminished; and at sunset, by the time we had reached Batataes, only 48 kil. farther on, hardly any more coffee plantations were visible. Only fields of short grass spread before us on all sides. An occasional bunch of trees hiding a humble farmhouse could be perceived here and there, but no other sign of life upon the immense, silent, green undulations of symmetric curves, not unlike enormous waves of the sea.

Farther north upon the Mogyana line, land seemed to diminish in price considerably. Its quality was not so good, especially for coffee plantations. At Batataes, for instance, 548 kil. by rail from the coast, prices were cheaper. Good land for cultivation could be obtained at 200 milreis, and campos at 25 milreis an alqueire.

[44] Such low prices were general north of Riberão Preto, although naturally they were likely to increase as the country got slowly opened up with new roads and railroads. Away from the railway the price of land was much lower.

One thing that particularly struck the traveller straying in those parts was the poverty of all the minor towns and villages. The industrial development of the larger settlements consisted merely of a distillery of "fire-water" (aguardente), or, if the city were modern and up-to-date, of a brewery, the only two profitable industries in those regions.

Batataes—according to Brazilian statistics—was stated to "deve ter"—"it should have perhaps" some 5,000 inhabitants. The zone around it was said to be suitable for coffee growing; in fact, the municipality possessed much machinery for the preparation of coffee.

At 7.50 p.m. punctually—as she was due—the engine steamed into the Franca station, where the train was to halt for the night. The passenger traffic was not yet sufficiently extensive on that line to allow trains to travel continuously during the twenty-four hours. Passenger trains ran only in the daytime.

I was treated with the greatest consideration while travelling on the Mogyana. Not only was the Administration saloon car, containing a comfortable bedroom, placed at my disposal, but telegrams had been sent all along the line with orders to supply me with anything I required. At Franca, much to my surprise, I found an imposing dinner of sixteen courses waiting for me in the station hotel—with repeated apologies that they were distressed they could not produce more, as the[45] telegram announcing my arrival had been received late. On no account whatever was I allowed—as I wished—to pay for anything. I was rather interested to watch in the station restaurant the wonderful mixture of people who had assembled: priests, monks, railway porters, commercial travellers—some black, some white, some a combination of the two—all sitting together in a jovial manner sipping coffee or devouring a meal.

The city of Franca itself, 2 kil. away from the station, 617 kil. from the sea at Santos, 528 kil. from São Paulo, was in the most remote northerly corner of the State of São Paulo, and had a population of 9,000 people or thereabout. The electric light had been installed in the town, and there was a theatre. Much difficulty was experienced in obtaining sufficient water for the needs of the population. In the municipality there existed a number of machines for use in the rice and the coffee culture, as well as two steam saws, a butter, and a sugar factory.

There were several trails—so-called roads—branching off from this town and leading to Borda de Matta, Garimpo das Canoas, Potrocinio do Sapucahy, S. José da Bella Vista, etc.

The climate was healthy and delightful. While I was there the Fahrenheit thermometer registered 76° at an elevation of 3,450 feet. With a fairly good soil, the municipality could produce cereals in plenty under proper cultivation. Land was cheap enough in that region—150 milreis per alqueire for good land for cultivation, and 25 to 30 milreis per alqueire for campos.

We proceeded on our journey north the next morning, passing through Indaya, 3,450 ft. above the[46] sea level—a settlement boasting of two houses upon the highest point of the railway line in the State of São Paulo. We were nearing the Rio Grande, or Great River, which, flowing in a westerly direction, formed in that region the northern boundary of the State of São Paulo with the State of Minas Geraes. As we got near the river a greater lack of cultivation was noticeable, with more extensive zones of wooded country, especially in the depressions of the land. The undulations of the landscape were more accentuated as we approached the Minas Geraes province. Clouds hung low in the valleys, and we occasionally went through banks of mist not unlike those of Scotland. At Chapadão the ground was more "accidenté"—to use an appropriate French expression—with deep depressions and indentations in the surface soil caused by erosion.

The high land on which we had been travelling between Franca and Igaçaba, the station after Chapadão, gave birth on the west to several important tributaries of the Rio Grande, enumerated below, from south to north; the Rio Salgado, the Rio do Carmo, Riberão Ponte Nova, Rib. Bandeira, Rio da Soledade, Rib. S. Pedro; on the east was the Rib. S. Jesus, also a tributary of the Rio Grande.

As the train sped down the incline towards the Rio Grande we were now treated to magnificent scenery on our right. An isolated hill stood at the bottom of the valley with higher mountains on either side of it, and, beyond, a high flat-topped plateau. The railway line skirted snake-like along the hill-side. The hill-tops were getting more rounded and fairly thickly[47] wooded. As we got to a lower elevation the isolated hill assumed the appearance of an elephant's back. A grassy valley several miles wide opened up before us.

At Rifaina Station we had reached the level of the banks of the Rio Grande, that is to say, 1,950 ft. above the sea level. The valley of the river was formed, in this case also, by erosion which had left isolated hills in terraces, one with as many as six distinct terraces, others with rounded backs, but all plainly showing in their stratification, which was identical with that of the surrounding elevations, that in former days there stood, where the valley was now, a plateau which had subsequently been gradually eroded by the action of water and wind.

Having crossed the river, we arrived at Jaguara—we were now travelling in the Minas Geraes Province—where a breakfast awaited us of rice, pork, dried beef, as hard as leather, omelette with shrimps (a much cherished dish in those parts), beans, mandioca, and coffee. Black railway porters, firemen and engine drivers all sat round the table and ate heartily, the meal costing 2 milreis, or about 2s. 8d.

The railway ran almost parallel with the river on the north side round the immense curve which the Rio Grande describes in that particular section. We passed Sacramento (elev. 1,850 ft.), and, in numerous curves, the railway rose by a gradient of 3½ per cent among hills seemingly worn out by torrential rains into rounded shapes with huge gaps between. We left the Rio Grande, there about 100 yards wide with thickly wooded banks and islands. At Conquista we had already again reached an elevation of 2,350 ft., but we[48] still continued to rise by a gradient of 2½ to 3 per cent, until a pass was reached from which two exquisite panoramas were obtained. One, particularly interesting, looked over Conquista with its whitewashed houses—some 250 of them—and red-tiled roofs against the background formed by the rugged sides of the natural cauldron worn in the tableland by erosion.

At 538 kil., 2,700 ft. above the sea level, a view was obtained of a small coffee plantation, but most of the country around was scantily wooded, grassy in places, barren in others.

The railway, having descended to 2,500 ft., rose again to 2,900 ft. near Paneiras Station. Then, through beautiful grazing country, gently undulating, we descended and mounted and went round sweeping curves, which formed in places regular loops not unlike a horseshoe. Two pits producing a considerable quantity of lime existed some 2 kil. from Paneiras. Weak attempts were noticeable here and there at growing coffee. We were now in an eminently wonderful pasture land—getting more and more beautiful as we neared Uberaba, where we found ourselves on almost flat country at an elevation of 2,900 ft., with hardly any trees at all and with a delicious climate. The town of Uberaba, with some 12,000 people, was situated at a slightly lower elevation—only 2,700 ft.

The Station and Shed of the Goyaz Railway, Araguary.

Mr. Luiz Schnoor and his two engineers.

Typical Trees of the Brazilian Forest, Goyaz.

The stem devoid of branches and foliage up to a great height.

Uberaba was perhaps the most important distributing centre in the western part of Minas Geraes, for many trails branched from that place to various distant points in the farther interior. The most important trail was the one to Sta. Rita do Paranahyba, thence to the capital of Goyaz Province via Marrinhos and[49] Allemão; whence a second trail went to Fructal via Conceiçao das Alagaos; a third, to Sant' Anna do Paranahyba, going on the whole almost due west, but with great deviations, went almost across South America as far as Pulacayo, in Bolivia, crossing first the State of Matto Grosso in its southern and narrower point via Coxim and Corumba, then all Bolivia, eventually joining the La Paz-Antofagasta Railway line at Uyum (Pulacayo is connected by rail to Uyum), and ending at the Pacific Ocean. Another trail led to Monte Alegre; yet another to Uberabinha—although the railway had already connected that town with Uberaba. This last trail continued, making great detours, to Bagagem, then to Patrocino, from which place it deviated due north to Paracatú, where three ramifications occurred: one to Sta. Lucia, Pyrinopolis, and Goyaz (capital); the second to Jamarria, Jocaré (on the San Francisco River), and Carrinhan (on the Carinhaha River, a tributary of the San Francisco), and eventually by water to the Atlantic Ocean; the third trail proceeded due east—across the S. Francisco River to Montes Claros and Grão Mogol; a fourth in a south-easterly direction led to Curvelho and Sta. Lucia, where it met the railway to Rio de Janeiro. Another route proceeded south to Sta. Rita do Paraiso.

The price of land—which was excellent in the valley of the river—in the vicinity of Uberaba was from 30 to 150 milreis per alqueire—each alqueire being reckoned at 10,000 square braças, and a braça being about 6½ ft., or a little over two metres.

After leaving Uberaba the scenery was magnificent, especially when a storm approached as we were steam[50]ing over the Serra de Caracol. Dense black clouds collected and capped the dark green forest of the Serra, while down, down below on our right the endless gently undulating plain of fresh green grass was brilliantly illuminated by a warm dazzling sun. Most beautiful grazing land—practically going to waste now—we crossed on reaching the highest point of the Serra; grass, grass, as far as the eye could see—quite flat land—but not a head of cattle in sight; in fact, no sign of animal life, and a stillness of death except for the puffing of the railway engine on which I sat. Water, however, did not seem to abound—only a small stream, near which curious-looking patches, or bosquets of trees lay in dark spots on that light green expanse. We were then at an elevation of 3,400 ft., amid delightfully cool and crisp air.

At Burity passed the great route of the cattle dealers from Goyaz and Matto Grosso for Sta. Rita, Passos, and Tres Corações do Rio Verde. At Palestina (845 kil. from the sea) we were on what seemed an interminable flat plateau with ideally green grass, and here and there patches of stunted vegetation. Land could be purchased there as low as 10 milreis an alqueire, although the best land cost from 50 to 300 milreis.

All was absolutely flat until we reached Sicupira (elev. 3,100 ft. above the sea level), where we began to descend to the Rio Uberabinha, its delightfully clear crystalline water winding its way through scrub.

At Uberabinha we again came across the wonderful red earth of the Riberão Preto district. Situated at an elevation of 3,050 ft. stood the little town of some 4,000 inhabitants, about 500 yards from the comfort[51]able and pretty station. Although the land was beautiful, cultivation could not be said to be prevalent. Merely some rice, beans, and Indian corn were grown in small quantities.

From Uberabinha the railway line descended all the time through thinly wooded country of shrubs and stunted trees; the verdant prairies, so refreshing to the eyes, were left behind, and the country became more broken, but the land was still excellent for agricultural purposes. After crossing a well-constructed iron bridge resting on two masonry pillars and spanning the picturesque rapids of the Rio das Velhas—the river, with its turbid, muddy, nasty-looking water, being there some 80 yards wide, at an elevation of 2,050 ft. above the sea level—we again began a steep ascent by a gradient of over 3 per cent, following most of the time the river course. The thickly wooded banks obstructed a good deal of the view except here and there, where a charming glimpse of the water could be obtained.

Seven hundred and eighty-nine kilometres from Campinas—or 982 kil. from the Atlantic Ocean at Santos—we arrived at the terminal station of the Mogyana Railway at a place called Araguary, 3,150 ft. above the sea level—one of the dirtiest and most unpleasant spots on the face of the earth. The termini of railway lines in newly developed countries seem to act like filters. Whatever is good passes through; only the impurities or dregs remain.

[52]

A great crowd had assembled at the station. The train had hardly stopped when my car was invaded by boisterous people, who embraced me and patted me on the back in the most approved Brazilian style. Before I could inquire who they were, one fellow, more boisterous than the others, informed me that he had purchased a great many mules for me, that he had engaged men for me, and also procured riding and pack-saddles, harness, implements, clothing and bedding for the men he had engaged, and I do not know what else. Everything was paid for. I could return the sum paid out the next day. Another man said he had already prepared a sumptuous apartment for me in the best hotel in the town.

When asked who had instructed them to make such arrangements, they were vague, and on being pressed for an answer gave names of people of whose existence I was perfectly ignorant. Before I could realize what all this meant I discovered—much to my annoyance—that all my baggage had been taken out of the train and had been conveyed to the hotel. I was therefore compelled to proceed there myself, in the[53] company of my new "friends," who shouted everything they had to say at the top of their voices, so that I should not fail to understand. It was already night, and the streets of the town were in such a terrible condition that the overladen carriage—there were people on all the seats, on the box and standing on the steps—nearly turned over on going round corners. The wheels sank up to their axles in mud.

We pulled up at the hotel door, where another crowd of loafers had assembled. I was literally dragged into the hotel—for I had become somewhat reluctant, first on seeing the appearance of the place, then on being met by waves of a nauseating odour which suggested the non-existence of sanitary arrangements and worse.

"Come in, come in!... wait here!" shouted they in a most excited manner, when I expressed a wish to inspect the palatial quarters which they had been good enough to reserve for me.

"Wait a moment!" shouted the landlord, a slumbering, disjointed, murderous-looking creature, whose violent gestures and waving of hands in front of my face were somewhat irritating. He dashed into a room on the ground floor—and we outside could hear an altercation between the loud-voiced proprietor and the plaintive moans of a half-dying man.

A moment later the half-dying man, skeleton-like, with livid eyes, a complexion the colour of a lemon gone bad, and quivering bare legs, was literally dragged out of the bed and roughly thrown out of the door.

"Here is your room!" cried the landlord triumphantly to me, as he flung out of that apartment some cheap canvas bags, clothes—which from birth had[54] been innocent of washing and pressing—and the socks, shoes, and day shirt of the guest who had been ejected.

The odour alone, as I peeped into the room, was enough to stifle any one with the sense of scent even less delicate than my own. As for the vacant bed—any pariah dog of any other country would have been offended to be offered such filthy accommodation.

In Brazil—as elsewhere—it does not do to lose one's calm. I also wished to avoid an unpleasant quarrel, as I have a belief that quarrels are bad for one's health. I spoke gently and kindly to the hotel-keeper, and said that, although I had ordered nothing, still, as he had kindly reserved that charming apartment for me, I should be very pleased to pay for it, which I would do at once. If he would excuse me, I preferred to go back to sleep in my private car. Upon hearing these words a nasty tragi-comic scene occurred, which, had I not remained cool and collected, might have ended badly.

"Do you know, sir," shouted the landlord, with livid features and eyes shooting out of their orbits, so enraged was he—"do you know that I am the Chief of Police here, and that everybody is afraid of me? I have only to give orders and every one will kill any one I like." Here he discontinued shaking his somewhat grimy hands under my nose and, drawing himself up, stood upon the doorstep of the hotel in order to harangue the great crowd which had collected.

"We are all millionaires in Brazil," shouted the landlord, with an effort which seriously impaired the safety of his fully-congested jugular vein. "We are all atheists and anarchists in Brazil. Down with the[55] infamous oppression and slavery of Europe! Down with kings and emperors! Down with Europe, the land of oppression and cruelty!" And again: "We in Brazil are the richest people on earth. We are all millionaires in Brazil. We do not need foreign charity!"

"Down with foreigners!" answered the chorus of assembled natives.

The railway inspector who had been sent by the Company to accompany me became scared at the turn matters were taking, and told me, against the instructions he had received, that I could not now return to the car. Upon hearing this, my new friends, believing they had me in their power, renewed their vocal attack.

I remained some time endeavouring to collect my baggage, pretending to pay no attention whatever to the absurd oratory. To this day I cannot yet grasp what the oppression of Europe had to do with my wanting to pay for something I had never had. I then repeated my offer, which was again refused. With the protection of his strong rear-guard, the Chief of Police advanced bravely towards me, holding in a suggestive manner with his right hand the pommel of his revolver in the back pocket of his trousers. In a tragic manner he exclaimed:

"We will settle this matter, to-morrow."

"We will settle it at once," I placidly replied.

"No, to-morrow," he repeated, with a vicious look.

"Very good: at what time and where?"

"At ten o'clock," he eventually grunted, after I had repeated the above question four times.

[56] I also politely invited all the others present to come forward if they had any claims to square. I was quite ready to settle anybody at any time and anywhere. Perhaps they might get more than they wished.

I departed with my baggage laden on two carriages and a cart, and eventually found accommodation at an equally filthy hotel near the station—only the latter place was kept by a humble and honest, decrepit old woman. I do not know that I have ever spent a more miserable evening anywhere. I do not mind roughing it in the roughest way possible, but I have always detested pretentious efforts at civilization of an inferior kind. Thus I sat having a meal—eggs, beans, rice—all soaked in toucinho (pork fat) which I detest and loathe. I watched black railway workmen and porters stuffing themselves with food in a most unappetizing way, and making disgusting noises of all kinds.

Fortunately I remembered that a friend of mine—a railway contractor, Mr. Louis Schnoor—must be at that time in Araguary, looking after the construction of the new railway line which will eventually join Araguary to the capital of Goyaz. I went in search of him, stumbling along the terrible roads with deep holes and pools of water and mud. As luck would have it, I was able to purchase from him, that very same evening, a number of excellent mules, which he very generously had offered to place at my disposal without payment. Also he promised to supply me with two reliable men—a job not at all easy in that particular part of Brazil.

Author departing from Morro da Meza,

Showing costume worn during the expedition.

Alcides.                          Filippe the Negro.

Mr. Louis Schnoor—a Brazilian of German extrac[57]tion—was a godsend to me. Thanks to him, I returned that night quite happy to the miserable hotel. Happy, because in less than half an hour I had arranged to leave that pestilential hole the following day. Mr. Schnoor had kindly undertaken that he would send me, at eleven o'clock the next morning, in a special train to the end of the line in construction, some 45 kil. farther north. In a town of gentle folks like Araguary the luxury of sleeping with one's window open could not be indulged in—especially as nearly all the houses were one storey high. So the night was rendered particularly oppressive and long, tormented as you were in your bed by its innumerable inhabitants, which stung you all over. I had taken the precaution to spread a waterproof sheet under my own blankets on the bed, but that, too, proved ineffective. Mosquitoes were numerous.

No sanitary arrangements to speak of existed in Araguary, so that everything was flung out of the windows into the streets, which made walking about the town most objectionable. The odour everywhere was revolting, as can well be imagined. The city was nevertheless considered by the natives as all that is most perfect in the way of civilization, for not only did it possess a few anæmic electric lights—so far apart as to be a nuisance instead of a help in seeing one's way about—but also, behold! it actually boasted of a spasmodic cinematograph. There were some 500 houses, all counted, at Araguary, all more or less miserable-looking, and a population of some 2,500 souls—"lost souls," I should think.

Slowly, very slowly came the next morning, March[58] 31st. At ten o'clock sharp I called on the Chief of Police at his hotel, and found that he had departed early in the morning and was not to be expected back for some hours! A charming way of keeping an appointment which he was so anxious to bring about.

In the company of Mr. Louis Schnoor I also called on the persons who said they had made arrangements for my expedition, as I did not wish to have any misunderstanding in the matter. Far from having purchased mules, horses, saddles and harness, they could produce nothing on demand, and finally asked me to remain in Araguary for one month—fancy one month in Araguary!—so that they could produce their purchases.

As I was driving in Mr. Schnoor's carriage we met, a long way from his home and hotel, the Chief of Police and hotel proprietor. I immediately dismounted and informed that gentleman of my visit at the appointed time. I also demanded that whatever he wished me to settle must be settled at once.

"Nothing at all," said he, shaking me warmly by the hand. "You owe me nothing. It was all a mistake. It was all a mistake. Please do not think of it any more. You owe me nothing, nothing, nothing. If I can be of use to you, pray order me! I am your humble servant." And his delightful politeness was such that I could hardly realize it was the same vicious man of the previous evening. In my surprise I had to turn to Mr. Schnoor to inquire whether I had got hold of the wrong man.

Yes, indeed. Some of those fellows of Central Brazil were a remarkable mixture of villainy and charm[59]—in chemical language one might describe them as sublimates of rascality and delightful manners.

However, good manners or not, I had taken such a dislike to the place that I was glad when eleven o'clock came and Mr. Schnoor conveyed me to the special train—an engine and one car. I inspected the new station of the Goyaz railway, which was already finished—a useful, well-constructed building, quite sufficient for its needs. In the company of Mr. Schnoor, his chief engineer, Mr. Schirmer and Mr. Bertoux, we left Araguary—oh, what a relief!—for the end of the line, 45 kil. away. I had decided to go and wait there in the open country the few hours which would be necessary to collect the men who were to accompany me, and the mules.

The work on that portion of the Goyaz line which was already laid was well and quickly done. Mr. Schnoor assured me that in four or five months more they expected to run trains to Catalão. An iron bridge will eventually be built across the Paranahyba River, within a short distance of which the line had already been laid when I was there. Some delay had been experienced in making a deep cut on the south side of Paranahyba Hills, where the strata had been found much harder than expected.

I camped for a day and a half at Morro da Meza, a lovely spot at an elevation of 2,850 ft., from whence an immense panorama could be enjoyed. What a relief this heavenly place was after Araguary, and how everlastingly grateful I shall be to my friend Mr. Schnoor for having deposited me there!

I took the opportunity of the solitude to rearrange[60] my baggage. On April 1st my good friend Schnoor reappeared to see that all arrangements were satisfactory for my departure.

Morro da Meza will ever remain present in my mind, for it was my jumping-off place into the wilds. It was from there that the actual marching on horseback and on foot began, and it was there I last saw a railway train for the best part of a year.

On April 1st, at 4 p.m., I left Morro da Meza, went through the new railway cut in preparation, crossed the Paranahyba River (at an elevation of 1,970 ft. above the sea level), and made my camp on the opposite side of the stream at Anhãnguera (elev. 2,100 ft. above sea level) in the railway engineers' camp, 800 yards away from the water. The engineers, an Italian, Mr. Schnoor's father-in-law, and a Russian—a Mr. Martens—showed me every possible civility. A curious incident occurred while we were having dinner. The day was a holiday, and the workmen on the line were resting. We were sipping our coffee, when a man entered our hut and said a companion of his had been shot. We rushed to see him, and we found that the poor wretch had had his skin perforated in eight different places by the same bullet. What was more remarkable was that each perforation was close to dangerous places in the man's anatomy, and yet not a single wound was mortal. This is how it happened. The man was lying down in his suspended hammock, resting his left hand on his left knee. A friend came along to show him a new automatic pistol he had purchased. In the usual silly fashion he had pointed it at his friend. The pistol went off, and the bullet[61] passed just under the skin at the knee, at the side of the knee-cap, and having come out again, went right through the soft part of the hand between the thumb and index finger. It then perforated the arm at the biceps, and further entering the chest, shaved the heart and came out at the shoulder-blade, continuing its flight beyond to somewhere where no one could find it again. That spoke highly for the penetrating power of bullets from automatic pistols, and also for the little harm those little bullets may inflict. The man, after we had carefully dressed his wounds, looked, perhaps, a little miserable, but he was able to depart on horseback carrying with his good arm a bottle of medicine.

The Goyaz railway was making rapid progress. The rails were soon to be laid on the north side of the river as far as Catalão. The bed of the railway was fast being made ready.

It was not until April 3rd that I was able actually to make a start with my caravan. My good friend, Mr. Louis Schnoor, had promised me two men—Alcides Ferreiro dos Santos and Filippe da Costa de Britto; the first a German Brazilian of a violent revolutionary temper but of extraordinary bravery; the other a pure negro of a boisterous, simple nature, also of indisputable bravery in moments of great danger. These two men—both natives of Araguary—proved themselves to be on that fateful expedition the two best men I possessed. Thus, if nothing else can be said in praise of Araguary, it must be said in justice that it can produce some men of great courage and faithfulness—a boast which cannot well be applied to many places in Brazil.

[62] On April 3rd, at 9 a.m., after a touching farewell, I left the engineers' camp mounted on a magnificent mule that Mr. Schnoor had insisted on lending me as far as Goyaz, with the pack animals which I had purchased. I did not follow the principal road, which went by a somewhat circuitous route from Araguary to the capital of Goyaz via the towns of Catalão and Bomfin, but preferred to travel across country by a short cut which took you there in an almost direct line in a north-westerly direction. On getting over the Serrinha (elev. 2,250 ft.), a hill range, one obtained a gorgeous view of the valley of the Paranahyba River—a river which, already of good width there, became eventually the great Parana. It is on the right bank of the river, near its mouth, some thousands of miles from where we were, that Buenos Aires is situated.

Going through a beautiful forest in undulating country, we reached the summit of a flat-topped tableland, 2,500 ft. above the sea level, with a gentle slope towards the north, where the edge of its summit was some 50 ft. lower than on the south. The vegetation was somewhat stunted, but interesting, for many were the trees I noticed which could be put to some use or other. The Barbatimão (Stryphnodendron bar. M.) was plentiful, and could be used advantageously in tanning leather; the Pao ferro (Cæsalpinia ferria M.) and the Paneira, were present in quantities.

Through the forest we descended in three hours to the Rio Virissimo, which, swollen by the sub-tributaries Barrocas, Indaica, Pirahitinga and Perobas on the east and Vae Vem on the west, throws itself into the Paranatinga between Morro Alto and Porto do Barreiro.[63] That stream had been bridged over. We had descended to 2,000 ft. During the entire distance—we had travelled some 23 kil. from the Paranahyba River—we had passed only two miserable sheds and we had not met a single soul, barring a glimpse at a shaggy female who happened to be opening the door of her hut as we were passing, and with a yell of terror banged it again, and bolted it as she perceived us riding by.

A peculiar kind of wild fig-tree was to be seen, ball-like in appearance, with branches inclined down instead of skyward like most trees. On our right as we proceeded down to the farms of S. Jeronymo and Sta. Barbara (elev. 2,400 ft.) stood a mountain with beautiful grazing land upon its slopes. Healthy fat cattle, in most wonderful condition—testifying to the excellence of the grazing in that region—were bred by the farmers. To the north, north-east and north-west behind this place were to be seen delightful green round-topped hills, also with excellent grazing. A few cows and imported zebus were to be seen, it is true, but the country could support a million times that number and more.

It was that evening that I noticed for the first time in Brazil a peculiar and most wonderful effect of light at sunset—not unlike an aurora borealis. White, well-defined radiations shot skyward from the west, where the sun had set, and stood out luminously against the dark blue sky, like the spokes of a gigantic wheel. This effect, as we shall see, was repeated frequently at sunset, and sometimes was even more beautiful than on the occasion of that first acquaintance with it.

We marched 39½ kil. that day—with my nine[64] pack-mules, Formosa (which in Portuguese means "beautiful"), the splendid white mule I rode, and three other mules ridden by my men. It was a real pleasure to see the appetite of the animals when we made camp. How joyfully they ground with their powerful jaws the Indian corn which each had received in a nose-bag soon after we had halted, removed the loads and saddles from their backs, and properly groomed them!

When we started the next morning we went through most beautiful grazing land for some 20 kil., and through marvellous grassy slopes on the mountains beyond. Streamlets of clear abundant water were passed. From 2,050 ft., the elevation of the stream, we rose to 2,650 ft., then descended gradually to the village of Corumbahyba, with its brand-new red-tiled roofs and whitewashed houses—very tiny, and, with one exception, all one-storied. The windows and doors were gaily decorated with bright blue paint. There was a church, of course, on one side of the large square smothered in high grass, and by the church two wooden pillars supported a beam from which hung a bronze bell. Then in the centre of the square stood, most prominent of all in the village, a huge wooden cross in a dilapidated condition. What little life seemed to exist in the place was to be found in the local store, where an inquisitive crowd had collected when I arrived.

Goyaz Railway in Construction.

The cut leading to the Paranahyba River.

Author's Caravan crossing a Stream.

My mules were let loose to graze in the square, joining a number of cows that were there already. As I sat in the shop, closely examined by the inhabitants, I returned the compliment by analysing them. What a[65] strange, dried-up, worn-out appearance young and old presented! What narrow, chicken-like chests, what long, unstable legs and short arms. And, dear me! what shaggy, rebellious hair, which stood out bristle-like in all directions upon their scalps! Yet those people came from ancestors who must have been, centuries ago, magnificent types of humanity to be able to accomplish what they did in the way of colonization. With the habit we possess of looking for finer, healthier specimens of humanity in the country than in the cities, this condition of affairs came somewhat as a surprise to me, since that rule generally applied to most nations I have visited except Brazil. Those people, partly by constant intermarriage among themselves, partly by the mixture of black blood with the white, and greatly owing to the effects of the most terrible complaint of the blood in existence—universal in Brazil—partly, too, by the dull, uninteresting, wasted lives they led and the poverty of their nourishment, were reduced to a state of semi-idiocy. The men hardly seemed to have the strength and energy to walk or even stand up—although I must confess, to my regret, that they had not yet lost the power of talking.

Their features were unattractive. Eyes wide apart and widely expanded, so that the entire circle of the iris was exposed, although the eyeball itself was not à fleur de tête, but rather sunk into excessively spacious orbital cavities in the skull. The part of the eyeball which is usually white was yellow with them, softened somewhat by luxuriant eyelashes of abnormal length. In fact, the only thing that seemed plentiful and[66] vigorous with them was the hair, which grew abundantly and luxuriantly everywhere, just as bad grass and weeds do on uncultivated or abandoned lands. There was a lot of hair everywhere—on the scalp, on the eyebrows, on the men's unshaven cheeks, on the chest, the arms, hands, and the legs. It is, I believe, a well-known fact that hair is generally more luxuriant, the weaker and more anæmic the subject is—up to a certain point.

Deep grooves and hollow cheeks—the latter due to absence of teeth—marked the faces of even young men. Then one of the most noticeable peculiarities was the extraordinary development, prominence and angularity of the apple of the throat. The ears—which to my mind show the real character and condition of health of a person more than any other visible part of his or her anatomy—were large and prominent, occasionally well-formed, but lacking colour and the delightful, well-chiselled, vigorous curves of healthy, normal, intelligent people. The hands and feet were generally small and well-shaped, in wonderful condition—though not necessarily clean—owing to the inborn reluctance which all the people of Brazil have towards manual labour.

It has always been my experience that, generally speaking, malformed people possess distorted brains—which does not mean at all that the brain of a malformed person may not perhaps develop in a marvellous manner in one particular direction. What I maintain is that, with few possible exceptions, the brains of malformed people are seldom perfectly balanced. In those particular subjects it did not take a deep student[67] of human nature to set down the entire crowd of them as visionaries, most fantastically inclined—in which direction, having no restraint whatever, they ran absolutely amuck.

Yet there was something very charming about the people of the interior of Brazil, after they had overcome their first suspicion of strangers and their own shyness. They seemed imbued with the idea that everybody went there specially to do them harm. They lived in a constant state of fear and trembling, even of their own relations and friends. They all went about armed to the teeth, and would not dream of going a yard outside their homes without a revolver, a rifle and a dagger. Even to walk about the village the men were all armed.

When not in a rage or sulky—which seemed to be their almost constant condition—they were the most good-hearted people I have ever met; gentle, affectionate—in fact, so sentimental that it became a positive nuisance. If one learnt how to deal with them—which was not always easy—they were really delightful people in their enviable simplicity.

A reflection of the people's mentality was to be discovered at a glance in examining the articles that were for sale in the only shop in the village. There, remember, you were in a country which, from an agricultural point of view, could be made of immense value. Now, did you notice any implements in the shop which suggested agricultural pursuits of any kind whatever? No; what you found were patent leather dress shoes, elaborately embroidered top-boots, fancy neckties, gaudy gilt and silver spurs of immense size,[68] bottles of powerful perfumes, fancy soaps, mirrors, combs, and highly-coloured calicoes, beer, fire-water, and other such articles of luxury.

Characteristic Types of Brazilians of the Interior.

(Notice degenerate faces and development of goitre.)

A Typical Village of the Province of Goyaz.

The Corumbahyba village stood at an elevation of 2,250 ft. in a hollow surrounded by low hills. The water was delicious at that place.

As I was getting through my lunch—which I enjoyed thoroughly after my morning march of 23 kil.—I saw crossing the square two murderers laden with iron chains, led along with a rope by two mounted men. The natives present laughed as they saw the poor devils struggle along. Not a sign of pity or care was shown by anybody present.

After leaving Corumbahyba we witnessed a panorama of magnificent mountain scenery from a height of 2,550 ft., to which we had ascended. Then came a steep and rugged descent through a forest down to a streamlet (2,250 ft.); then up another ascent to 2,350 ft. and down again to 2,050 ft. at the great Corumbá River, there 300 yards wide. We crossed this beautiful stream—animals and all—on three canoes joined together, upon which a platform had been built.

[69]

At the river were several picturesque two-wheeled carts waiting to be ferried across. Drawn by ten, twenty, and even as many as thirty oxen, these heavy hooded vehicles travelled across country in a most wonderful manner. Naturally they had to be of solid construction to stand the wear and tear demanded of them. Their wheels were heavy solid discs of hard wood encircled by powerful tyres of iron. A primitive system of brake—a mere bar of wood held in position by ropes—retarded the speed of the vehicle down extra-steep declivities. When going up or down hill the friction of the wheels upon their axles produced a continuous shrill whistle, which, when heard from a distance, sounded not unlike the whistle of a locomotive. In the deathly stillness of the Goyaz landscape those whistles could be heard a long way off. The expectant farmers—expectant, because those trading carts conveyed to them a good deal of the food-stuff, salt, and other necessaries of life, as well as the luxuries they could afford—were clever at recognizing the whistles of the various carts, and they identified one special cart or another by what they poetically called the "voice of the wheel" or the "song of Goyaz."

[70] There were some picturesque rapids just above the spot where we crossed the Corumbá River, which flowed in a tortuous channel with a general direction of W.S.W.

To the east of our track, as we proceeded northward, stood a glorious range of hills with magnificent grazing land extending for many miles. In front of us to the north and N.N.E. towered a high plateau, the Serra de Callos, also called, I believe, Serra do Cusuzeiro.

Still travelling up and down and across several streamlets, we reached at sunset the Rio Boccagna (2,230 ft. above the sea level), which, soon after passing the place where we crossed it, entered the large river Bagri, winding its way through a gorgeous forest. We had passed during the day really wonderful grazing land on either side of the track, but principally to the east, between the north bank of the Corumbá River and Camp Mazagan. There were plenty of small streams in the hilly and sometimes slightly wooded valleys.

At seven o'clock, having ridden that day 76 kil., we halted after dark at the moradoria, or farm, of Mazagan (elev. 2,375 ft. above the sea level). We were politely asked to enter the house, and immediately preparations were made to clear out the best room for me. The illumination was not grand: an ancient metal arrangement—not unlike a Pompeian lamp—with a wick soaked in oil profusely smoking. In the dim light I could just distinguish in the background, reclining against the wall, a youth with a guitar, from which two chords—always the same two chords—were strummed. The boy seemed in a trance over this[71] musical composition, and even our appearance had not disturbed his efforts. He had taken no notice whatever of us. Dinner was prepared—it took a long time—the musician all the time delighting his admiring family with the two monotonous chords.

"It is a pity," said his delighted mother to me, "that we cannot send him to school. He is a genius; he would astonish the world."

"Yes," I hastily agreed, "it is a pity you cannot send him ... somewhere!"

"Can you not take him with you?"

I explained to the poor woman that it required very civilized people to appreciate her son's music. Among the wild Indians I expected to find, later on in my journey, I was sure that with music like that, we should all be killed; they were such savages!

After two solid hours—and the two chords still continuing, with no signs whatever of relenting—I asked the musical genius if he could treat me to a different tune. Alas! he knew no other, but as he saw that I was so fond of music he would again, with the greatest pleasure, go on playing the same air—he called it an air.

"Muito obrigado! (Thank you very much!)" I moaned, with a sickly smile on my lips and a violent internal wish to smash guitar and guitarist.

"No hai de que! (Do not mention it!)" and here recommenced the repetition of the two chords.

"I should like to go to sleep now; thank you very much again for the lovely music," I next plaintively added, in my most approved Brazilian politeness.

[72] "Oh, not at all: I shall go on playing while you are sleeping. It will give you pleasant dreams!"

It was too pathetic. Nothing short of murder could have stopped his enthusiasm. Being a traveller of years' experience, I was not to be outwitted. As he would not stop the music, I stopped hearing it by stuffing my ears tight with cotton-wool. So I slept soundly enough, notwithstanding the orchestral entertainment. At sunrise, when I opened my eyes again, the boy was still at it. I removed the cotton from my ears ... yes, indeed, the identical two chords!

The boy and the guitar will perhaps never know what a narrow escape they both had! In despair I gave orders to get the mules ready at once in order to depart immediately.

Those halts in farmhouses were dreary beyond words. The Brazilians of the interior—quite unlike those of the big towns in or near the coast—were sullen people, with no conversation—or else too much—no interest in anything, no art, no imagination. They were timid and vain to an incredible degree, suspicious, avaricious, and easily offended, so that the greatest tact had to be used with them. They were ignorant of everything even in their own immediate neighbourhood. Yet, mind you, with all that, extraordinarily kind and ultra-polite of speech. They all seemed turned out of the same mould. When you had seen one you had seen them all. There were, of course, a few exceptions—Brazilians of recent German, French, Italian or Spanish origin—but these exceptions were indeed very rare in the interior.

Ill-fed, his blood corrupted and impoverished to the[73] utmost degree—his health, therefore, never in a normal condition—his finances at the lowest ebb, the Brazilian of the interior had little indeed to make him happy. His home at best was as miserable and dirty as possible. The room generally given to an honoured guest—the best in the house—was the granary. More than once was my camp-bed perched on a mound of Indian corn. And the furniture? A wooden bench of the roughest description—really an instrument of torture rather than an article of comfort; a few wooden pegs in the wall for hanging rifles or other things; an occasional wooden bedstead; seldom, very seldom, a stool or a chair—in any case, never a comfortable one such as you invariably find with peasants and old-established colonists of most other countries. They cared not for comfort. Their beds, a mass of rags, were shared by masters and hens and dogs. Everything was in an abandoned state, everything had fallen to rack and ruin. All looked as if they were tired of life, too indolent to move. They seldom saluted when you met them on the trail, nor when you entered their houses; if they did, they rapidly touched their dilapidated hats as if afraid to spoil them. Never did you perceive a smile upon their long-drawn countenances. When they greeted one another they laid their bodies close together as if about to dance the tango, and patted each other repeatedly on the shoulder-blades, turning their heads away as if to avoid their reciprocal evil odour. It is not the fashion in any part of Brazil to shake hands. Some say it is because of the unpleasant feeling of touching sweating hands; others suggest that it is to prevent the contagion of the many skin complaints[74] from which people suffer. When they do shake hands—with a stranger, for instance—one might as well be grasping the very dead hand of a very dead man; it is done in so heartless a manner.

For a consideration they reluctantly gave a stranger what little they possessed, but they had not the remotest idea of the value of things. In one farmhouse you were charged the equivalent of a few pence for an egg or a chicken; in the next farm a small fortune was demanded for similar articles of convenience. Men, women, children, dogs, pigs and fowls, all lived—not happily, but most unhappily—together.

No sooner were we able to saddle the animals and pack the baggage and pay our hostess, than we tried to make our escape from that musical farm. But luck was hard on me that day. One mule was lost, a second received a terrible gash in his hind quarters from a powerful kick from another mule.

We went on among low, fairly grassy hills to the west, W.N.W. and to the east of us. We still had before us the Serra de Callos—a flat-topped tableland some 12 kil. in diameter on the summit, where it was almost circular. Its deeply grooved sides showed clearly the great work of erosion which had occurred and was still taking place in those regions. With the exception of two spurs, which projected on the west and east sides of the plateau, its sky-line was quite clean and flat.

After rising to an elevation of 2,600 ft., then descending to 2,450 ft., we crossed two streamlets which afterwards joined a fairly important torrent. One was called the Rio Boa Vista. We gradually then rose[75] to 2,750 ft. on another flat tableland to the east of the Serra de Callos, with its sides eroded in two distinct terraces, the higher one being almost a straight wall from two-thirds up the side of the range. In the lower portion a number of rounded mounds were to be observed, which, with a stretch of the imagination and for the sake of comparison, resembled, perhaps, elephants' heads.

North-east of the Serra stood a thickly-wooded, detached mound, while to the north as we went along there was displayed before us a magnificent view of the flat valley into which we were about to descend.

Where the country was wooded many trees and plants were to be found, useful for their tanning, medicinal, oliferous or lactiferous qualities: such as the Dedal, a yellowish-leafed shrub from which a yellow dye can be obtained; the tall thin Arariba Amarelho, or Amarelhino (Centrolobium robustum), a great number of Lobelia trees, with their elongated light green leaves and clean barked stems, which eject, from incisions, a caustic and poisonous juice. The tallest of all the trees in that region was perhaps the Jacaranda, with its tiny leaves.... There were four kinds of Jacaranda—the Jacaranda cabiuna, rosa, tan and violeta, technically known as Dalbergia nigra, Machærium incorruptibile, Machærium cencopterum, Machærium Alemanni, Benth. The three latter have a specific gravity higher than that of most woods in Brazil, except the Pao de ferro (Cæsalpina ferrea), the very plentiful Barbatimao (Stryphnodendron barbatimao), a mimosa-like tree, and the Vinhatico amarello (Echyrosperum Balthazarii), the last of which has the highest specific gravity of all.

[76] Then we found plenty of Sambaiba, an excellent wood, and Imuliana, a wood of great resistance, much used in certain parts of Brazil for constructing fences.

A peculiar tree with concave leaves shaped like a cup was locally called Ariticun or Articun. It produced a large fruit, quite good to eat.

Much botanical variety was indeed everywhere around us.... There was the terra da folha miuta, which, as its name tells, possessed minute shiny leaves; then the tall Faveiro (Pterodon pubescens), producing a bean, and having dark leaves not unlike those of mimosas. Then, many were the kinds of acacias we noticed as we went along.

Picturesque Ox-carts of Goyaz.

Still descending, we arrived at the little town of Caldas de Goyaz—so called because there were three hot springs of water of different temperatures. I visited the three springs. The water tasted slightly of iron, was beautifully clear and quite good to drink. Two springs were found in a depression some 150 ft. lower than the village—viz., at an elevation of 2,450 ft., whereas the village itself was at 2,600 ft. These two springs were only 20 ft. away from a stream of cold water. A short distance from the cold stream was another stream of hot water emerging from the rocks.

Small rectangular tanks had been made at the two higher springs, which were said to possess wonderful curing qualities for eczema and other cutaneous troubles; also for rheumatism and blood complaints of all kinds. Whether those waters were really beneficial or not, it was not possible to ascertain on a passing visit. I drank some of the water and it did me no harm, so if it does no good neither is it injurious.

[77] The village of Caldas showed signs of having seen better days. It was clean-looking, but like all other villages of Goyaz it was dreary in the extreme. There were only a few houses in the place, and each had a shop; all the shops sold similar articles—nickel-plated revolvers, spurs and daggers, calicoes, gaudy wearing-apparel, perfumery, and so on.

For any one interested in the study of the effects of erosion on a gigantic scale, no more suitable country could be found than Central Brazil. Here again to the E.N.E. of Caldas stood the Serra do Sappé. In this case it was not a tableland, like the Serra de Caldas, but purely a hill range. The plateau of Serra de Caldas, I was told, measured on its summit 12 kil. by 18 kil.

Again, after leaving Caldas, we went through most wonderful grazing ground to the north-east and east of our route at the foot of the Serra do Sappé. We had descended to the Rio Lagiadi, 2,480 ft. above the sea level, which flowed into the Pirapitinga River (a tributary of the Corumbá). Once more did we admire that evening the remarkable effect of solar radiation, this time a double radiation with one centre—the sun—to the west, and a second centre, at a point diametrically opposite, to the east. Those radiations, with a gradually expanded width, rose to the highest point of the celestial vault, where they met. The effect was gorgeous indeed, and gave the observer the impression of being enclosed in the immeasurable interior of an amazingly beautiful sea-shell turned inside out.

We arrived in the evening at the farm of Laza (elev. 2,450 ft.), where we had to abandon the wounded mule,[78] and also another which, on coming down a steep incline, had badly injured its fore leg.

The pack-saddles used in the interior of Brazil (Minas Geraes, Goyaz and Matto Grosso) were the most impracticable, torturing arrangements I have ever had to use on my travels. The natives swore by them—it was sufficient for anything to be absurdly unpractical for them to do so. It only led, as it did with me at first, to continuous unpleasantness, wearying discussions and eventual failure if one tried to diverge from the local habits, or attempted to eradicate deeply-rooted ideas.

Let me describe a typical Brazilian pack-saddle. It weighed, with its inseparable protecting hide, well over 90 lbs. It was bulky and cumbersome, most difficult to lift and set right on the animal's back. It consisted of two great parallel, clumsily-carved, heavy U-shaped pieces of wood supported upright on two enormous pads, at least double the size and thickness necessary. The breast and tail pieces were of extra thick leather of great width, which had the double disadvantage of being heavy and of producing bad sores by their constant friction and hard, saw-like, cutting edges. Then the saddle allowed the loads to hang much too low on the sides of the animal's body. This naturally saved trouble and effort to the men who packed the animals. Two of them simply lifted the loads simultaneously on the two sides and hooked them to the saddle by means of adjusted loops of leather or rope. Then came the difficulty of keeping the loads in position, so that they would not shift back and forth. This was done by passing a leather thong over[79] all and under the animal's belly, which was then squeezed beyond all measure. Result of this: continuous trouble to pack rebellious animals, who knew what was coming; painful marching for the animals, who thus had difficulty in breathing, and therefore extra long marches, almost an impossibility without much injury to them. We will not speak of sore backs, sore sides, sore chests, and sore tail root—which was a matter of course after a pack animal had borne for a few hours one of those torturing arrangements on its back.

I had tried to adopt lighter saddles of a more practical design, such as I had used on other expeditions; but as this involved a different method altogether of packing the animals, it led to much derision, unpleasantness, and refusal to do the work except in their own stupid way, so that in order to save time, expense and trouble I had to conform, much against my will, to the Brazilian method. It was an impossibility to induce a Brazilian of the interior to agree that any other way of doing anything was better or even as good as his own.

A painful phase of human existence, as the country became more and more sparsely inhabited, was the number, relative to the population, of cases of sexual insanity, due naturally to the great difficulty of intercourse. We will not refer to sexual vices—extremely common—which reduced the few inhabitants to a state of absolute idiocy. Thus at Laza farm there were only three women and no men. They were all of a certain age, and for many many years had been there alone, and had not seen a man. They had become[80] absolutely insane, and it required no little tact to prevent a catastrophe. One—a repulsive, toothless black woman, formerly a slave—was in such an excited state of mind that I was really glad when I saw my troop of animals started on the march early the next morning.

On April 6th we were still on the north side of the Serra de Caldas, at the northernmost point of which flowed a riberão, or great river (elev. 2,450 ft.). Most beautiful grazing land spread to the north of us, enormous stretches of undulating country verdant with delicious grass. The Sappé Mountains were still visible in the distance.

Marching through enchanting country—almost level, or merely rising or descending a few feet—with a magnificent view of distant mountains to our right and of low flat plains and far-away tablelands to our left, we arrived, after a morning's march of 36 kil., at the fazenda of Pouso Alto (elev. 2,600 ft.).

A Home in Central Brazil.

A Clever Automatic Pounding Machine.

Outwardly Pouso Alto was by far the neatest-looking fazenda we had yet seen since leaving Araguary, but on entering the house the floor was a mass of dirt. Fowls were running to and fro all over the rooms. A rough table of Portuguese origin, a couple of benches so dirty that one did not dare to sit on them, some roughly made bedsteads, miserable and filthy—but no washstands or basins, no articles of necessity were anywhere to be observed or found. The mattresses—if one can elevate them to the dignity of such a name: they were mere bags filled with anything that had been found handy, such as the leaves and stalks of Indian-corn, wool and dried grass—were rolled up in the daytime. Only one bed was still made up. On it a[81] cackling hen was busy laying an egg. That egg—a very good egg—was triumphantly served to me for breakfast.

The walls of nearly all the farmhouses in the southern part of the Province of Goyaz were made of wooden lattice work, the square cavities formed by the cross sticks being filled in and the whole plastered over with mud, which eventually became hard when dry. Near the foundations the walls were strengthened with mud bricks half baked.

Evidently, as was the case with this particular old house, in former days, when Goyaz was more prosperous than it is now, in the time of the Emperor, most of the houses were whitewashed—a luxury which in these days of misery the farmers can no longer indulge in. The doors and windows were rambling, though the frames of them were generally solidly made, but one never saw a pane of glass in any window anywhere in the country. At night the people barricaded themselves tight into their rooms and let no air in. It was partly due to fear of attack. Whenever a building was whitewashed one invariably saw on it the impression of its owner's spread hand in outline, or else his signature in blue paint. The favourite colours in house decoration—where any were noticeable—were blue and a dirty cinnabar red.

Dogs were numerous everywhere, and, like their masters, were indolent and sleepy.

In the afternoon of that same day we travelled some 13 kil. more, on practically level ground intersected by a couple of streamlets. Marching through thinly wooded country, grassy here and there, one began to notice a variation in the scenery, which was gradually[82] becoming more tropical in appearance. Palm trees, especially burity (Mauritia vinifera M.), in single specimens, or in groups, could be seen in the great stretches of good grazing country which appeared on both sides of our course.

We spent the night at the fazenda of Ritiro Alegre (elev. 2,450 ft.), which words translated mean "the merry rest"—a most undeserved name, I can assure you, for neither merriment nor rest was to be obtained there. An evening in a Brazilian farm was, nevertheless, occasionally not devoid of interest or of comic scenes.

These folks evidently valued little the life of their children. As I was sitting on the doorstep waiting for my dinner to be cooked, down came, galloping at a breakneck speed and riding bareback, a little child of eight, carrying slung under his arm a smaller child of one, the latter squealing terribly. They both landed safely at the door. Then there appeared one of the picturesque carts drawn by twelve oxen, anxiously awaited by the family. Twenty snarling, snorting, ill-natured pigs provided enough noise seriously to impair the drums of one's ears; and when you added to this the monotonous bellowing of cows and oxen, the frantic neighing of horses and mules waiting to be fed, the crowing of cocks and the cackling of hens, the unmusical shrieks of a beautiful arara (or macaw, of gorgeous green, blue, and yellow plumage), and of two green parrots—to which total add, please, the piercing yells of the children—it was really enough to drive one insane.

They were superior farmers, those of the "Merry[83] Rest"—no one could doubt it when the lady of the house and her pretty daughter arrived from an errand and found strangers in the house. Dear me, what style, what enchanting affectation, the pretty maid and her mamma put on when they perceived us!... With an air of solemnity that was really delightful, they each offered us the tip of one finger for us to shake, and spoke with such affectation that their words stumbled one against the other. Their vocabulary was evidently restricted, and in order to make the conversation elegant they interpolated high-sounding words which did not exactly belong, but sounded grand in their ears. It was a trial to have to remain serious.

Dinner was served—always the same fare wherever you went. Boiled rice (very badly boiled), beans, stewed chicken chopped up, pimienta (peppers), fried eggs and Indian corn flour, which one mixed up together on one's plate and rendered into a paste. The coffee was always plentiful and good, but so strong that it was quite bitter.

By the light of a wick burning and smoking terribly from the neck of an ex-medicine bottle filled with oil, we enjoyed our meal, watched intently by the entire family, silent and flattened in semi-obscurity against the walls. The primitive lamp gave so little light—although it gave abundant smell—that the many figures were almost indistinguishable against the dirty background, and all one perceived on raising one's eyes from the dinner-plate was a row of expanded eyes, following the movements of our hands, and just under that row a row of white teeth.

When seen in a stronger light it was curious to notice[84] criminal characteristics on nearly every face one saw; in the servants at those farmhouses one frequently observed murderous-looking creatures whom one would not care to meet alone in the dark. They were a special breed of stranded outcasts who had drifted there—the outcome of a complex mixture of Portuguese, former black slaves, and Indians. When you realized that the people who had drifted into the interior were the worst Portuguese, the worst blacks, and the Indians who intermarried with these gentry the worst Indians, you can well imagine what fine results could be expected from such a breed.

One trait predominant among these people was the unreasonable jealousy of the men over their women. Had they been so many Venuses of Milo the men could not have guarded them with more ferocity. I am sure it would take a brave man indeed, and, above all, a totally blind man, to fall in love with the farmers' wives, daughters, or servants of the Province of Goyaz.

I must say this in favour of my Brazilian men, that, whatever other faults they may have had, they always, behaved in a most chivalrous, dignified way with the women-folk we met. Never once did I have to reprimand them.

In the morning, as the cows were driven into the yard to be milked, and the calves were being suckled by their mothers, and the children, rubbing their sleepy eyes with the backs of their hands, scrambled out of the house upon their drowsy legs, the girls of the family brought the last cups of coffee to us departing strangers. We packed our animals, paid the bill, and were off again.

[85] On April 7th we crossed the Piracanjuga River, another tributary of the Corumbá, 50 yards wide, flowing from north-east to south-west, at an elevation of 2,300 ft. One league (6 kil. 600 m.) farther on we crossed another stream flowing east, in its turn a tributary of the Piracanjuga.

One of the most beautiful trees in that region was the caneleira, of the family of the Laurineas. Beautiful, too, were the oleo pardo and vermelho (Myrocarpus frondosus and Myrospermum erythrozylon).

We were next treated to a view of an extensive, deliciously green valley, most excellent for grazing purposes, extending from north to south to the west of our route. In the central depression of this valley were burity palms in abundance. They say that wherever you find a burity you are sure to find water. It is perfectly true, as the burity only flourishes where there is a good deal of moisture in the soil.

Having crossed a low pass, we found ourselves in another valley—this one sparsely wooded (2,500 ft. above the sea level), very beautiful, with undulations some 200 ft. high, and with streamlets at the bottom of most of the undulations. The summit of the highest elevation on that undulating land was 2,750 ft., the level of the principal streamlet 2,600 ft. above the sea.

[86]

Twenty-nine kilometres from the "Merry Rest" we arrived at the little town of Pouso Alto—duly translated "high camp"—situated 2,750 ft. above the sea level on an elevation between the two rivers Piracanjuba, and the Furmiga (which afterwards became the Rio Meio Ponte), throwing itself into the Paranahyba River.

Pouso Alto was like all the other villas or settlements of Goyaz, only perhaps a little larger. The same whitewashed houses with doors and windows decorated with blue, the same abandoned, deserted look of the principal square and streets; in fact, another "city of the dead." Only two men—drinking in the local store—were visible in the whole village.

The usual impertinent questions had to be answered.

"Who are you? Why do you come here? Is your country as beautiful as ours? Have you any cities as large as ours in your country? How much money have you? Are you married? You are English; then you come here to steal our gold and diamonds."

"Have you any gold and diamonds here?"

"No!"

[87] "No, you cannot travel for pleasure. The English only travel to take away all the riches from other countries! Those instruments you carry" (a compass and two aneroids) "are those that tell you where to dig for gold!"

I could not help remarking to this gentleman that so far the country I had traversed seemed merely to be rich in misery, that was all.

Nothing could be imagined more funereal than those little towns. My men intended remaining there for the night, but I insisted on pushing on for a few more kilometres—especially as in these places my men were led to drink and became unmanageable. On we went for 9 kil. to the farm of Bellianti (elev. 2,500 ft. above the sea level).

On April 8th we made an early start and travelled through a luxuriant forest, which was daily getting more and more tropical as we went farther north. We were, of course, do not forget, south of the equator.

Thirteen kilometres from camp we crossed the Rio Furmiga (or Meio Ponte) about 100 yards wide, flowing there in a direction from east to west at an elevation of 2,000 ft. Most gorgeous, richly verdant vegetation overhung and festooned the banks of the stream.

As we went farther toward the interior the vegetation grew more beautiful, the people more repulsive. The majority of the people suffered from goître in more or less advanced stages. Many were the persons affected by leprosy.

We were in a region where oranges (imported, of course) of most excellent juicy quality were obtainable—for instance at the farm of Felicidade (elev. 2,350 ft.).[88] All those farms—very old—showed signs of having seen better days—no doubt when slavery existed in a legal form in Brazil and it was possible to work those estates profitably. With the prohibitive price of labour—and in fact the impossibility of obtaining labour at any price in the interior—farming cannot indeed flourish to-day. The comparatively few immigrants who landed at the various ports in Brazil were at once absorbed near the coast, and seldom left the port of landing, where labour was anxiously required.

For the first time, that day did I see two snakes, which were concealed in the deep grooves left by a cart wheel. One wound itself around the front leg of my mule, and for a moment I was anxious lest the animal had been bitten; but fortunately the snake, which had been trodden upon, did no damage. Only rarely did we see a bird anywhere, except in villages, where an occasional crow, with its dried-up neck and jerky motions, could be seen. How like the inhabitants those birds were!

Brazilian Pack-saddles.

A Typical Village.

(The higher building is the church.)

Twenty-seven kilometres farther we reached Santo Antonio, a village situated in quite a heavenly spot, 2,800 ft. above the sea level, but in itself one of the most miserable villages I have ever seen. There were altogether some forty houses scattered about, eight of which were along the sides of the principal square—an abandoned field. The church had the appearance of a disused barn. A large wooden cross stood in front of it, upon which birds had built their nests. Four thin, anæmic-looking palms stood at different angles by the side of the cross. We had the misfortune to stay there for the night. By seven o'clock everybody[89] had barricaded their houses and had retired to sleep. There was, of course, no such thing as a post-office or a telegraph in the place. The nearest place where a letter could be posted was some 72 kil. away on the high road between Goyaz and Catalão. Goats tied in pairs, with a log of wood between in order to keep them apart, seemed to have the run of the place, and were the only things there which appeared to have any life in them.

But if the place was miserable, if the natives were repulsive and dull, there was plenty to be thankful for in admiration of the really glorious country around, and the superb sunsets to which we were treated every evening. Again that evening, when everybody in the place was slumbering, the sunset was more wonderful than words can describe. The usual radiations, which again reached the highest point of the sky's vault, were that night white on the west, with corresponding ones of brilliant cobalt blue to the east.

A drizzling rain rendered the night cold and damp, although the Fahrenheit thermometer registered a minimum temperature of 70°.

On leaving S. Antonio the trail ascended to a height of 3,100 ft. (4½ kil. from the village), and we were then in a rich forest region, where the acaju—of the Terebinthaceæ family—was plentiful, with its huge leaves and contorted branches. The acaju produced a refreshing fruit, either of a bright red or else of a yellow colour, not unlike a large pepper, outside of which was strongly attached a seed possessing highly caustic qualities. Many gordinha trees were also to be seen. It was interesting to see how those zones of[90] forest were suddenly succeeded by beautiful and vast areas of grazing land, such as we found that day. We crossed three streams at the respective elevations of 2,550 ft., 2,650 ft., and 2,750 ft., after which we reached an elevation of 3,000 ft., the highest we had so far attained on our route from the coast, where we found ourselves on a grassy tableland of considerable beauty. Looking back to the S.S.E., we perceived the two hill ranges, one behind the other, which we had crossed. Between them and us were marvellous slopes covered with green grass, but not in the lower portion, where bordering the stream was luxuriant forest. This was noticeable also on a hill to the west, forming a minor tableland with rounded sides.

To the N.N.E. was a perfectly flat plateau. The distance rendered it of a deep blue, and its level sky-line gave the appearance of the horizon upon the ocean, except that there rose two small peaks which stood up slightly above the elevation of the plateau. On all that beautiful land only two small miserable farms were to be seen. Yet it seemed to be a paradise on earth—delightful climate, excellent soil, useful woods in the forest, plenty of delicious water.

Three more streamlets flowing from west to east were encountered at elevations of 2,700 ft., 2,750 ft. and 2,800 ft., with undulating grassy land between of wonderful beauty.

Having deviated somewhat from our route, we at last descended into a grassy valley—absolutely flat—the best of all we had seen. It had been fenced all round. Upon inquiry, I learned that it had been acquired by the Redemptionist Friars. There is one thing friars[91] certainly know. It is how to select the best land anywhere to settle upon.

We had travelled 46 kil. 200 m. that day when we arrived at Campinas (elev. 2,550 ft. above the sea level)—the usual kind of filthy village with tiny, one-storied houses, more like toys than real liveable habitations. This time the doors and windows were bordered with grey instead of blue. On nearing those villages in Central Brazil one frequently found an abundance of rough wooden crosses scattered upon the landscape. They marked the spots where individuals had been killed.

In the room where I put up in the village, in the hospedagem, or rest-house, the floor was besmeared with blood, the result of a recent murder. The shops grew more and more uninteresting as we got farther into the interior. The difficulties of transport were naturally greater, the prices rose by leaps and bounds, as we got farther; the population got poorer and poorer for lack of enterprise. The articles of luxury and vanity, so frequently seen in shops before, were now altogether absent, and only bottles of inferior liquor and beer were sold, matches and candles—that was all. No trade, no industry, no money, existed in those places. If one happened to pay with a five- or a ten-milreis note (6s. 8d. or 13s. 4d.), one could never obtain change. Frequently, unless you wished to leave the change behind, you were obliged to carry away the balance in cheap stearine or beer. I took the stearine. A short distance from the town was a seminary, with four German friars, very fat, very jolly, very industrious.

Alcides, one of my men, was by way of being a veterinary surgeon. Here is how he cured a wounded[92] mule, which, having received a powerful kick from another animal, displayed a gash 3 in. long in her back, and so deep that the entire hand could be inserted and actually disappear into the wound. Francisco, another of my men, having duly and firmly tied the animal's legs—a sensible precaution—proceeded with his naked arm to search for bishus: anything living is a bishu in Brazil, from an elephant to a flea; but in this particular case it was applied to insects, such as carrapatos, maggots, or parasites, which might have entered the wound. Having done this at considerable length and care, he proceeded to tear off with his nails the sore edges of the laceration, after which he inserted into the gash a pad of cotton-wool soaked in creoline. That was the treatment for the first day. The second day, the wound proceeding satisfactorily, he inserted into it, together with his hand, a whole lemon in which he had made a cut, and squeezed its juice within the raw flesh. The amazing part of it all was that the animal, with an additional bath or two of salt and water, absolutely recovered from the wound and got perfectly well.

The Redemptionist monks had a fine vineyard adjoining their monastery—the only one of any size and importance we had seen since leaving the railway—and also some lovely orange groves in a walled enclosure. They had built a mill on the bank of the stream. Most of that beautiful valley for miles and miles belonged to them. The town of Campinas—not to be confounded with Campinas of São Paulo Province—had a population of 600 souls.

When we left that place the next morning, again we[93] went across beautiful flat stretches of grassy land—several miles long and broad—regular tablelands, at an elevation of 2,700 ft.—most wonderful pasture lands now going absolutely to waste. Plentiful streamlets intersected those lovely meadows at a slightly lower elevation—merely a few feet—where the water had eroded itself a channel. Those streams were generally bordered by a thick growth of trees and entangled vegetation. We stopped for lunch at the farm of Boa Vista (Belvedere or Fine View), so called—according to the usual Brazilian way of reasoning—because it was situated in a deep hollow from which you could see nothing at all! Another more rational name which this place also possessed was Bocca do Matto (Mouth of the Forest), because it truly was at the entrance of a thick forest extending to the north.

We went, in fact, from that point through densely wooded country, although the trees were of no great height or size. The ground was swampy and sloppy, most unpleasant for marching, for some nineteen kilometres, until we arrived at Goyabeira (elev. 2,700 ft.), having covered 56 kil. 100 m. that day—not at all bad marching considering that we could not change animals and we conveyed all our baggage along with us.

I saw that day another snake, called by the natives duas cabecas (and Tu Nou), or double-headed snake, because its marking gives that impression at first sight.

After leaving Goyabeira the thick growth continued over several ridges, the highest of which was 2,950 ft., with streams between at elevations respectively of 2,630 and 2,700 ft. I noticed in the forest some beautiful paneira trees, with their trunks enlarged near[94] the base—a regular swelling all round. One of the peculiarities of this tree was that it produced a kind of vegetable wool contained within fairly hard capsules.

That was indeed a day of surprises for us. As we were proceeding over another hill range between two streams (elev. 2,850 ft.), we saw at last some butterflies of a gorgeous lemon yellow, some of a rich orange, others of red and black, great numbers of pure white, and some huge ones of an indescribably beautiful metallic blue colour. There were swarms of them near the water. So unaccustomed were they to see human beings that many settled on my white coat and on my straw hat and came along undisturbed for long distances upon my person. They were so beautiful that I had not the desire to kill them, even for the sake of bringing back a valuable collection. It would have been easy to capture them, as you could touch them several times with your fingers before they would fly away. One butterfly particularly took a great fancy to my left hand, in which I held the reins of my mule, and on which it sat during our marches for several days—much to my inconvenience, for I was afraid of injuring it. It would occasionally fly away and then return. At night while we were camping I transferred it to my straw hat, on which it quietly remained until the next morning. The moment I had mounted my mule, the butterfly would at once fly again to my hand. This great affection was due chiefly, I believe, not to any magnetic attraction, but merely to the delicately scented soap which I used in my morning bath, and which greatly attracted the butterfly.

[95] On many occasions on that expedition I had similar experiences with butterflies.

For the first time, too, I perceived that day a few colibris—tiny humming-birds of wonderful plumage.

Twenty-three kilometres from Goyabeira—after many ups and downs along a deep-channelled, slushy trail, and having crossed over several swampy, troublesome streamlets—we suddenly emerged into a marvellous undulating open plain with lovely grass and numerous fat cattle grazing upon it. In the distance upon the hill-side four or five farm-sheds could be perceived. We had stopped at one farm on the way in hopes of getting food, but they could only sell us some feijão—beans soaked in lard—so that it was with some haste that we directed our mules to the more imposing building in expectation of finding there at least some rice and eggs. We hurriedly crossed the plain and then the stream, and halted at the Cachoeira Grande (Grand Rapid) farm, 2,950 ft. above the sea level. A pure negro was in charge of the place, whose wife was also as black as the ace of spades. Curiously enough, they possessed a child much discoloured and with golden hair and blue eyes. Such things will happen in the best regulated countries. The black man swore it was his own child, and we took—or, rather, did not take—his word for it.

We went on thirteen more kilometres that afternoon, when we were overtaken by a hurricane and torrential rain which drenched us to the marrow of our bones. We halted for the night at the farm of Lagoa formosa (Beautiful Lagoon), 3,000 ft. above the sea level.

It was on April 12th that we proceeded to climb[96] the dividing range between the waters flowing south into the Paranahyba (afterward called the Parana) River, and those flowing north eventually into the Amazon. This range of mountains was by some called Serra de Sta. Rita, by others Serra Dourada. It was not possible to ascertain the real name from the local people, who could tell me the names of no place, or mountain, or stream, and hardly knew the names of their own homes.

On a flat expanse some 13 kil. from Lagoa Formosa we came upon a small lake. We travelled mostly across campos (or prairies), with waters from that point flowing northward. Seventeen kilometres farther we entered the neat-looking village of Curralhino (elev. 2,600 ft.), with two squares and streets actually with names to them. We were from this point on the main route between São Paulo and the capital of Goyaz, and also met there the telegraph line between Goyaz and São Paulo.

We were getting near the capital of the province. A little more life was noticeable in this settlement than in those we had met before. Caravans of mules and horses occasionally passed through, and bullock-carts, with eighteen and twenty oxen, slowly and squeakily crept along. We were going through a region that was more than hilly—almost mountainous—the first of the kind we had encountered since leaving the railway.

Author's Caravan about to cross the River Corumba.

Burity Palms.

At Camp Maria Alves we were at an elevation of 3,000 ft. Beautiful crystals were to be found at and near this place. Many were enclosed in hard envelopes of yellow lava, which contained besides semi-crystallized matter easily crushed—to be strictly accurate,[97] the imprisoned infinitesimal crystals were easily separated, under gentle pressure. Some spherical balls and pellets of lava I picked up, when split contained red baked earth which had evidently been subjected to intense heat. In the centre of these pellets one or more crystals of great clearness were invariably to be found. These pellets must have been expelled with terrific force from a volcanic vent, and must have travelled great distances, for the depression where I found them had a surface of alluvial formation.

On April 13th we again rose over a range where we encountered a good deal of igneous rock and quantities of beautiful crystals. We had a range to the west of us and one higher and more important to the north-east, the latter more broken up than any we had so far seen in the three last provinces crossed. We somehow missed now the lovely pasture lands of the day before, so refreshing to the eye, and the landscape had suddenly become more rugged and barren, except near water. Some 9 kil. from the farm Maria Alves the Uru or Uruba River (elev. 2,550 ft.) flowed north—there merely a picturesque torrent among rocks and overhanging vegetation on both banks.

The wonderful effect of erosion was noticeable on the mountain sides to the north of us, where it had left a top terrace with deep corrugations in the lower sides of the mountain. A miserable-looking farmhouse could be seen here and there—quite as miserable as the country in itself was rich. Some shaggy policemen, in rags and barefooted, passed us, guarding an ox-cart dragging treasure to the capital. Only the oxen and some cows which were about looked at us with interest,[98] and sniffed us—it is wonderful how quick animals are at detecting the presence of strangers—but the people took no notice of us. Here and there a tumbled-down tree blocked the way. There were tracts of pasture land. My men were considerably excited on seeing a poisonous snake crawl swiftly towards our mules. It was perhaps an absent-minded or a short-sighted snake, for no sooner did it realize our presence than it quickly veered round to escape. My men killed it.

At an elevation of 2,550 ft. we met a limpid stream of most delicious water. At that particular spot it flowed south.

We were now confronted with a range of actual mountains. The trail took us over wonderful rugged scenery, masses of pillar-like grey rock of granitic formation. On the summit of the pass we were over strata of half-solidified tufa in sheets—or foliated—easily crumbled and finely powdered between one's fingers. The strata were at an angle of 45°, showing that they had undergone some disturbance. They had been subjected to great heat, for in some places they had been hard baked, which rendered them of a yellowish brown colour. On the left of us—to the west—a great vertical pillar of rock plainly showed the stratification, the continuation of which could be followed on the opposite side of the pass, both in the horizontal strata and those which had been forced up at an angle. Looking back from the pass, we obtained a heavenly panorama of wooded hills to the south-east, far, far beyond in the background, and of glorious campos between them and us. With the winter coming on—of[99] course you know that south of the equator they have their winter when we have our summer—beautiful yellowish, reddish and brown tints of the foliage added picturesqueness to the landscape.

The pass itself was 2,850 ft. above the sea level. There was not much in the way of vegetation, barring a few stunted sucupira trees. The air was exquisitely pure and the water of two streamlets at 2,550 ft. delicious and cool. We were marching over quantities of marble fragments and beautiful crystals, which shone like diamonds in the sun. Having gone over the pass, we came upon a most extraordinary geological surprise. There seemed to have been in ages long gone by a great subsidence of the region north of us. We were then on the steep edge of what remained of the plateau, and down, down in the depth below was an immense valley in which Goyaz city lay.

To the west of us—as I stood impressed by that awe-striking scene—we had the irregularly-cut continuation of the edge of the plateau on which we stood, supported as it were on a pillar-like granitic wall of immense height and quite vertical, resting on a gently sloping base down to the bottom of the vast basin below.

This great natural wall of gneiss, which contained myriads of crystals and mica schists, shone like silver in the spots where the sun struck it, and with the lovely pure cobalt blue of the distant hills, the deep green of the valley below, and the rich brown and yellow and red tints of the near foreground, made one of the most exquisitely beautiful sights I have ever witnessed. The nearest approach to it in my experience was,[100] perhaps, the eastern escarpment of the Abyssinian plateau in Africa, where a similar panorama on a much smaller scale could be seen, but not the same geological formation.

The President of Goyaz and his Family.

Giant cactus in the background.

No sooner had I recovered from the strangeness and marvellous beauty of Nature's work around me, than I felt a great shock at seeing what men had done in that region. We were at this point on the high road between São Paulo, Uberaba and Goyaz capital. As my animals stumbled down the steep escarpment traces could be seen of what must have been formerly a beautiful paved road, well-drained on both sides with channels, and held up in terraces by stone works where the gradient was steepest. Here and there bits still remained, demonstrating how well the road had been made. But, uncared for and abandoned, most of it had been washed away by the heavy rains, which had turned that road into a foaming torrent in wet weather. Near habitations, the well-cut slabs with which the road was paved had come convenient to the natives for building purposes. During the time of the Emperor Pedro II., I was told, that was a magnificent road, kept in excellent repair.

Goyaz city lay before us down, down below, in the hollow of the huge depression. Its single row of low whitewashed houses of humble architectural pretensions became less and less impressive and less picturesque as one got nearer. I had by that time grown quite accustomed to this optical disillusion, for it was frequently the case with the work of man in Brazil. It always needed distance—the greater distance the better—to lend enchantment to it.

[101] With a feeling of intense oppression—perhaps due to the stifling air and the lower elevation (1,950 ft.) at which Goyaz city lay—we entered the capital of Goyaz. At the sound of our mules upon the pavement, timid men, timid women and children cautiously peeped from each window through the half-closed Venetian blinds. We only had to turn round to peep at them, and with terrified squeals the hidden creatures banged and bolted the windows. The sight of a stranger in Goyaz was apparently an event. Whether we were expected or not, I do not know, but the whole population seemed to be hiding behind the tiny windows to look at us. The few who were caught in the street seemed as if they wanted to bow but had not the courage to do it. Indeed, their timidity was intensely amusing. Some, more courageous, gave a ghastly grin, displaying rows of irregular teeth in a terrible condition of decay.

DISTANCES BETWEEN ARAGUARY AND GOYAZ

[102]

There was no such thing as an hotel in Goyaz capital. The nearest approach to it was a filthy rest-house for muleteers, which was, furthermore, already full. Against my usual custom—as I never, unless absolutely necessary, make use of the credentials I carry for my private needs—I had, therefore, to apply to the Presidente or Governor of the Province to find some sort of accommodation in the town for my animals, men, and myself.

"Take off your spurs before you enter!" roughly shouted a sentry at the Governor's palace—a huge barn-like structure—just as I was stooping to do that before being asked.

"Do not stand on the pavement," said the sentry again, anxious to display his authority.

Being a law-abiding person I shifted to one side.

"Do not stop under the Presidente's window!" cried the policeman angrily once more, digging me in the ribs with his bayonet.

I was beginning to be sorry I had not brought an aeroplane with me in order to complete my toilet in the air before entering so sacred a precinct, but patience[103] being one of my chief virtues I transferred myself to the remotest point across the square, where, stork-like, upon one foot at a time I was able—this time undisturbed—to remove both spurs.

"Take off your hat before entering," again shouted the policeman, as I was still some fifteen yards from the door.

I really began to feel rather nervous, with all those orders grunted at me. I wondered at the strange people who must visit the palace to have to be instructed to such an extent before entering. I also stopped for a moment to ponder whether I had taken off all that was necessary to enter a palace where so much etiquette was required.

The moment I entered things were different. I was ushered into an ante-room, where I had to go through a short cross-examination by some police officers. Then, when they had made sure of my identity, they immediately led me before the Presidente.

The Presidente greeted me with effusion. He was a most polished and charming gentleman from Rio de Janeiro, had travelled extensively in Europe, and could speak French and English. He roared heartily when I told him of my experience outside his palace.

"They are all savages here," he told me; "you must not mind. The sentry has orders to keep everybody away from the palace, as people come in the afternoon and squat under my windows to jabber, and I cannot sleep. Those orders, I assure you, were not meant for you. You will be my guest all the time you are in the city, and I can accept no excuse."

The Presidente placed a small house near the[104] palace at my disposal, and insisted on my having all meals with his family—most refined, handsome, exquisitely polite wife and daughters.

I presented the credentials I possessed from the Minister of Agriculture in Rio and the Brazilian Ambassador in London, requesting the Presidente to do all in his power to further the success of the expedition—I, of course, paying all expenses. The Presidente, like most other Brazilians of a certain age, was blasé beyond words. Nothing interested him except his family, and life was not worth living. He believed in nothing. He was an atheist because he had not been as successful as he wished in the world, and attributed the fault to God. He cared little about the future of his country. If his country and all his countrymen went to a warmer place than Heaven, he would be glad to see them go that way! As for going exploring, mapping unknown regions, studying the country and the people, building roads, railways and telegraphs, it little mattered to him, but it seemed all nonsense.

"Instead of coming to these wild, deadly regions, why do you not go and spend your money enjoying yourself in Paris or Vienna?" was his advice to me.

"Perhaps I need a change occasionally, and I enjoy things all the more by contrast when I return to Europe."

The Presidente was evidently not in good health and spirits. He was a Senator of the Republic, and a man formerly of great ambitions, which were more or less shattered when he was elected Governor of Goyaz Province, with its population of corpses, and at[105] a salary of £40 a month—very little more than I paid my head muleteer—so that little could be expected from the Governor of such a Province.

It was thus that the State of Goyaz, one of the naturally richest in Brazil—it contained pasture lands unique for their beauty, forests with valuable woods, plenty of water and great navigable rivers draining it both north and south, of which it was sufficient to mention the magnificent Araguaya River, the Rio Tocantins and the Paranahyba (or Parana)—was instead one of the poorest. In the very heart of Brazil, Goyaz was geographically and politically the centre of the Republic. With an area of 747,311 sq. kil. (288,532 sq. miles), the Province had an estimated population of some 280,000 souls, or less than one to every square mile.

The region forming the present State of Goyaz was first explored in 1647 by Manoel Correa, a native of São Paulo, and in 1682 by another Paulista, Bartholomeu Bueno de Silva, who both were prospecting for gold. The latter was successful in locating gold mines and in making friends with the local Indians of the Goyaz tribe, from whom the Province then took its name. Some forty-three years later de Silva returned to São Paulo with 918 ounces of gold. The news of these goldfields quickly attracted a great number of adventurers to Goyaz. The country then saw its most prosperous days, especially in and near Villa Boa, the present city of Goyaz, where gold was said to have been plentiful in those days.

The enterprising Bartholomeu Bueno de Silva returned to Goyaz in 1731 as a Capitão Mor, or Grand[106] Captain, with the right to dispose of land. In 1822 Goyaz was recognized as a Province of the Empire, and subsequently in 1869 it became one of the States of the Union, with autonomy as regards local affairs under its own Constitution approved by the Federal Constituent Assembly in 1891.

Cattle, horse and mule breeding on a small scale was the chief source of income of that magnificent State—an income which in less indolent hands might be increased ten-thousand-fold or more. Its horses and mules found a ready market in the adjacent State of Matto Grosso and from there went into Bolivia, while the States of Minas Geraes and São Paulo were the chief buyers of pigs, toucinho (dried pork fat), dried beef, hides raw and cured, cheese, lard, etc.

Goyaz prided itself greatly on its horses, which enjoyed a certain fame all over Brazil. Perhaps they were in a way as good as any produced in the Republic. With a little study and care in the breeding they might be greatly improved and rendered as sturdy and good-looking as some horses of Asia and Northern Africa. So far they were far inferior in appearance and endurance to the horses of Arabia, Turkestan, Europe and Abyssinia.

The most interesting type of the Goyaz horse was what is called the curraleiro or "stable horse," bred in the north of the State, especially in the valley of Paranan, bordering upon Minas and Bahia. The curraleiro was also known as cavallo sertanejo or "horse of the jungle"—two most inappropriate names, for it was, accurately speaking, neither one nor the other.

[107] The Goyaz horse was a typical Brazilian horse. It shared many of the characteristics of the people of the Province. Timidity, laziness, lack of affection and judgment, sulkiness and great stubbornness under training of any kind were its qualities. This was due chiefly, I think, to its inferior intelligence when compared with thoroughbred horses of other nations. The Goyaz horse was small, fairly agile, and when well cared for had a handsome shiny coat with luxuriant mane and tail. It was capable of short, noteworthy efforts, but did not possess abnormal endurance.

The present curraleiro is a mere degeneration of what must have formerly been an excellent horse. Considering the absolute lack of care taken in its breeding, it was certainly remarkable that it proved to be as good a horse as it actually was. Judiciously crossed with Hungarian, Turkestan, Arab or Abyssinian horses, I think that quite excellent results might be obtained. It must be taken into consideration that great hardships and work of the roughest character were demanded of animals in Central Brazil.

A praiseworthy movement was started some years ago by Marechal Hermes da Fonseca, now President of the Republic, to mount the entire Brazilian Cavalry on national horses. That will perhaps lead some day to a great improvement in the breeding of animals all over the country, and especially in Goyaz, which provided the most suitable land for that purpose. The same remarks could, perhaps, in a slightly lesser degree, be applied to the breeding of donkeys and mules. No care whatever was exercised by the breeders in order to improve the breeds. Everything was left to luck and[108] chance. The result was that a degenerate type of animal was produced—wonderful indeed, considering the way it was bred, but which might be improved to an immense extent and made into a remarkable animal, in such a propitious climate and with such marvellous pasture lands.

With cattle also, it is safe to assert that, since the colonial time, very little fresh foreign blood of any importance has been introduced in breeding—except, perhaps, some inferior types of the Indian humped zebu. Most of the stock I saw in Southern Goyaz was intermixed with zebu. The formerly existing bovine races, such as the Mocha, Coraçu and Crioula have now almost altogether disappeared.

Unlike most other States of Brazil, Goyaz had no Provincial Customs duties. With its immense frontier, bordering upon seven different other States, it would be impossible to enforce the collection of payments. No reliable statistics were obtainable as to the amount of exports or imports of the State. Even approximately it would be impossible to make a guess as to the actual amount of the resources of the State.

Sugar-cane and tobacco could be profitably grown in the State. The small quantity of tobacco grown there was of excellent quality.

The Main Square of Goyaz City,

Showing Prison and Public Library.

Some of the Baggage and Scientific Instruments used by the Author on his Expedition.

The Government of Goyaz Province consisted of three Powers: the Executive, represented by the President, elected for three years by universal suffrage; the Legislature—a Chamber of Deputies equally elected for three years by suffrage; and a Judicial power constituted by the High Court of Justice, Juges de droit—law judges—and District Judges. To be elected Presi[109]dent of Goyaz State all that was necessary was to be a Brazilian citizen, over thirty years of age, and able to read and write. The same applied to the election of Deputies—for whom a residence of only two years in the State was sufficient.

The capital of Goyaz—situated on the Rio Vermelho, a tributary of the great Araguaya River—had, according to the census of 1900, a population of some 13,475 people, but I rather doubt whether it possessed as many as 8 to 10,000 souls when I visited it. One could notice indications that Goyaz had been in days gone by a flourishing place. There were a number of fine churches, and a large cathedral in course of construction—but since abandoned. Some of the buildings, too—the finest was the prison—must have been quite handsome, but were now in a dilapidated condition. It was really heart-breaking to see such a magnificent country go to rack and ruin—a State naturally the richest perhaps in Brazil, yet rendered the poorest, deeply steeped in debt, and with the heavy weight of absurdly contracted loans from which it had no hope whatever of recovering under present conditions. They had in the province the most beautiful land in Brazil, but it was a land of the dead. People, industries, trade, commerce, everything was dead. Formerly, in the time of the Emperor and of that great patriot General Couto de Magalhães, Goyaz city could be reached—within a few kilometres—by steam on the beautiful river Araguaya, which formed the western boundary of the province, an ideal waterway navigable for 1,200 kil.—in Goyaz province alone. In the time of the Emperor, when Brazil was a wild country, steam navigation[110] actually existed up the Araguaya River from Conceição as far as Leopoldina (the port for Goyaz city). The river was free from obstacles of any kind, even in the rainy season. There were then three beautiful English-built launches on that service. A fine repairing shop had been erected at Leopoldina.

But in these days of civilization, order and progress, the steamers have been purposely run aground and left to rot. There was actually a tree growing through the hull of one of those launches when I last heard of them; the machine shop was robbed of all its tools, and the machinery destroyed and abandoned. The Presidente told me that the Provincial Government had eventually bought the wrecks of the launches and the machine shops for £20—and as it cost too much to leave a man in charge everything had since been abandoned.

When I visited Goyaz there was no sign and no hope of re-establishing steam navigation on that marvellous waterway.

The Tocantins River, which intersected the Province from Goyaz city to its most northern point, was also another serviceable stream—but no one used it, except, perhaps, some rare private canoe taking up goods to settlements on its banks.

The navigation of the Tocantins, when I was in Goyaz, extended merely to the Port of Alcobaça, 350 kil. from Para, from which point rapids existed which made steam navigation impossible as far as Praia da Rainha. The distance of 180 kil. between those two places was eventually to be traversed by a railway, a a concession for which had been granted to the Estrada[111] de Ferro Norte do Brazil. In the High Tocantins I believe two steam launches were temporarily running as far as Porto Nacional or perhaps a little higher.

Undoubtedly the State of Goyaz will some day, notwithstanding its apathetic inhabitants, see great changes for the better. The new epoch will begin when the several railways which were in course of construction from various directions enter the Province. Not one of them had penetrated the Province at the time of my visit, although the work of preparing the road had just been begun on Goyaz territory, as we have seen, for a few kilometres north of the Paranahyba River, on the extension of the Mogyana line from São Paulo. A second railway line in course of construction was a branch of the Western Minas Railway; and there was a third up the Araguaya from Para. Those railways will certainly revolutionize the country. The inhabitants of Goyaz, ultra-conservative in their ideas, were not at all anxious to see a railway reach their capital. In their curious way of reasoning they seemed to think that the railway would make life dearer in the city, that strangers would be coming in great numbers to reap the benefit of their country, and that the younger people who were satisfied to live there—because they could not get away—would all fly to the coast as soon as the railway was established, to enjoy the luxuries of Rio and São Paulo, of which they had heard, but could so far only dream of. They did not stop to think that the railways will certainly make Goyaz the richest country in the world.

The financial condition of that beautiful State can perhaps best be shown by quoting the words of the[112] Presidente himself in his message to the Legislative Congress of Goyaz on May 13th, 1910, on assuming the Presidency of the Province.

"On my assuming the Government of the Province, I ordered the Secretary of Finance to give an account of the balance existing in the State Treasury; and it was verified that up to April 30th last there existed a sum of Rs. 87,000,000 (£5,800 sterling), which became reduced to Rs. 50,000,000 (£3,334 sterling) after the payments made on the 1st, 3rd, and 4th of the present month (May, 1910). It must be understood that the above-mentioned sum does not represent a balance existing in the Treasury, because it includes deposits and guarantees, as well as the deposits of the Orphan Asylum and of the Monte Pio.

"Leaving out the sums left in the Treasury on deposit, and which represent in fact a debt of the State, we come to the conclusion that there is no money whatever in the Treasury, and that the State 'ainda fica a dever' (is instead deep in debt). The expenses were vastly higher than the income of the Province and whereas the expenses of administration increased daily, the receipts remained stationary."

There was a certain humour in the Presidente's remarks on crime, when he referred to the difficulties experienced by the Chief of Police, who received no remuneration.

The Author's Six Followers.

"It is easy," he said, "to understand the drawbacks resulting for the maintenance of order and the repression of crime, which is daily becoming more common—owing, no doubt, to the facility of entrance, through our unguarded boundaries, of persecuted people or fugitives[113] from our neighbouring States, and of the impunity of criminals due to the benevolence of our juries. The diminution of our police force in so large a State with such difficult communications has had the result that the police force, moved incessantly from one end of the State to the other, never arrives in time to prevent crime!

"Many criminals have been prosecuted and are now safely guarded in prisons, but unhappily the greater number of criminals are loose all over the State without fear of being prosecuted, and terrorizing the population. Bands of gipsies were followed by officers and soldiers, and their attacks on property and individuals were prevented.... In the town of Catalão the two armed parties were successfully prevented from violence and 'viessem ás máos' (coming to blows). At Morrinhos armed citizens in a menacing attitude were dispersed by the police ... in other localities other riots or attempts (sic) at disorder were immediately repressed, and we can now say that the State enjoys perfect peace, save the municipality of Douro, which is threatened by bandits from Bahia. They are constantly springing upon the terrified population of the municipality and especially of the town.

"... The bandits continue their incursions; murders follow one another in the entire zone between Formosa and Barreiros, including Santa Rita and Campo Largo, the inhabitants of which zone are paralyzed with terror.... Our commerce with Bahia, as well as relations between private individuals, is thus interrupted."

In his message the Presidente wisely and frankly[114] disclosed the difficulty of administering justice under existing laws, when juries would absolve proved and confessed murderers wholesale. He endeavoured to stimulate some sense of honour in the officials in charge of the various municipalities, where "as rendas em geral mal applicadas" (the revenue generally misapplied) found its way into channels through which it was not intended to pass.

A fervent appeal the Presidente made to prevent the spread of smallpox. The vaccine which the Government sent to various points of the State was not used.

Curious, indeed, but perfectly true, were his statements regarding the police force.

"The officers are zealous and understand their duty. The policemen, notwithstanding all their defects, are being instructed and disciplined. The policemen are in general 'criminals' (morigerados). Ha falta de armamento, e o existente não é o melhor. (There is lack of armament and the existing one is not the best.) The pay is small ... and the body needs reorganization."

The Academy of Law (Academia de direito) was not satisfactory and did not answer the purpose for which it was established.

The Lyceum, with its 105 pupils, gave fair results, barring the tolerance in examinations, which, however, did not reach a criminal point (sic). It possessed no building of its own, and was badly housed in a private dwelling.

Public instruction was admittedly defective all over the province. The teachers were almost as ignorant and illiterate as the people who went to learn—and[115] perhaps more so; while the Escola Normal (Normal School) for women was almost altogether unattended. The public works were uncared for—there was not a single new work of art begun in the State. Nor could the State boast of a single road or trail or bridge in fair condition.

The laws on the possession of land would one day lead to immense difficulties and confusion. The greater part of the land now occupied was in the hands of people who had no legal right whatever to it.

The existing laws on mining were equally unsatisfactory, and the Presidente rightly remarked that "without facilities and guarantees, capitalists will never venture upon so risky and problematic an enterprise as mining in a State so distant and so difficult of access." He also exhorted the people to re-establish steam navigation on the Araguaya River, such as existed in the days of the Empire.

I was told that a launch had actually been purchased in the United States, but was either waiting at Pará for want of an engineer or else had again been sold owing to the impossibility—due to lack of money—of its being transported in sections over the rapids above Conceição.

The question of boundaries with neighbouring States was an amusing one. According to some rule for which no one can account, the Government of Goyaz claimed from the State of Matto Grosso enormous stretches of land on the opposite side of its natural, indisputable geographical western boundary, the main stream Araguaya, as well as the isolated settlement of Conceição, on the opposite side of the Araguaya River,[116] which was undoubtedly in the State of Pará. One only had to glance at a map—bad as maps were—to see that in both cases the claim was an absurd one. In the case of Conceição it was perfectly ridiculous. The Pará Government held the place with a military force and occupied the territory with complete jurisdiction. In a more peaceful manner the State of Matto Grosso was in possession of the entire territory west of the Rio Grande do Araguaya, which the people of Goyaz said belonged to them. On the west the Araguaya formed a perfect geographical boundary from the Southern Goyaz boundary—where the Araguaya had its birth—as far as the most northern point of the State; whereas, were one to accept the supposed Goyaz boundary formed by the Rio das Mortes—a tributary of lesser volume than the main stream—it would involve an imaginary compound boundary line up the Paredão stream, then up the Rio Barreiros, then an imaginary straight line from north to south across mountainous country, winding its way east until it met the Serra dos Bahus, then again north-east over undetermined country, then along the Rio Aporé and eventually joining the Paranahyba River.

Curiously enough, nearly all the Brazilian Government maps—and all the foreign ones copied, of course, from the Brazilian, all remarkable for their inaccuracies—gave the wrong boundary as the correct one! In any case, both the States of Matto Grosso and Pará were in actual occupation of the respective disputed territories, and Goyaz was much too poor to afford fighting for them, so that I fear her most unreasonable claims will ever remain unsatisfied.

[117] The final blow to the financial status of the Province was the loan raised on the Banco do Brazil of Rs. 300,000,000 (£20,000 sterling) at an interest of 7 per cent per annum. The Presidente counted on the receipts from the exports as well as on economy in administration in order to pay the interest on this sum—a dream which soon became impossible to realize.

It was then attempted to float an internal loan of Rs. 200,000,000 (about £13,334 sterling) at an interest of 6 per cent; but, as the Presidente pathetically ended his message to the State Congress, "not a single person presented himself to subscribe to the loan."

The receipts from the export of cattle from Goyaz State amounted in 1910 to only Rs. 171,901,000 (or £11,460 1s. 4d. sterling). After all expenses were deducted the State of Goyaz then showed a deficit of Rs. 325,510,743 (£21,700 14s. 4d. sterling).

[118]

It was in the town of Goyaz that I had entertained hopes of finding suitable followers to accompany my expedition. The officials in Rio de Janeiro had given me glowing accounts of the bravery of the people of Goyaz. According to them those settlers of the interior were all daredevils, courageous beyond words, and I should have no difficulty whatever in finding plenty of men who, for a consideration, would join the expedition.

"They will one and all come with you," a well-known Colonel had exclaimed enthusiastically to me in Rio—"and they will fight like tigers."

I carried the strongest possible—although somewhat curiously worded—credentials from the Federal Government to the Presidente and other officials of Goyaz, the letters, which had been handed to me open, stating that the Presidente was earnestly requested to do all in his power to help to make the expedition a success. When I presented these documents, I explained clearly to the Presidente that all I wished was that he should help me to collect thirty plucky men, whom I would naturally pay, and pay well, out of my own pocket, feed and clothe, during the entire time the[119] expedition lasted, as well as pay all their expenses back and wages up to the day of reaching their original point of departure.

"I cannot help you; you will get nobody. Besides, I have received an official but confidential message from Rio requesting me to do all I can to prevent your going on."

Such treachery seemed inconceivable to me, and I took no notice of it. I again requested the Presidente to endeavour to find me men and animals, as nothing would deter me from going on. If no Brazilians came, I said that I would go alone, but that the value of the expedition would naturally suffer, as I should thus have to leave behind all the instruments, cameras, and other impedimenta, which, single-handed, I could not possibly carry.

It was my intention to travel north-west from Goyaz city as far as the River Araguaya. There I wanted to descend the Araguaya as far as the Tapirapez River—a small tributary on the west side of the Araguaya, shown on some of the very incorrect existing maps approximately in Lat. 11° S., and on others in Lat. 9° and some minutes S. Proceeding westward from that point again, I proposed crossing over to the Xingu River, then to the Tapajoz, and farther to the Madeira River. It was necessary for me to hire or purchase a canoe in order to descend the Araguaya River as far as the Tapirapez.

Believing that perhaps I might be able to find men without the assistance of the Governor, I tried every possible channel in Goyaz. I sent men all round the town offering high pay. I applied to the com[120]manding officer of the Federal troops. I applied to the Dominican monks, who have more power in Goyaz State than all the officials taken together.

The Father Superior of the Dominicans shook his head at once and told me that, much as he wished to oblige me, I was asking for something impossible. He was right. The people were so scared of the Indians, and of the horrors of camping in the jungle, that no money in the world would ever induce them to move out of their town.

"Are there no young fellows in the town who will come along for the love of adventure as well as the money they will get?" I asked.

"For love! ... love!" said the friar, bursting with laughter. "I do not believe that such a thing exists in Brazil."

Having removed "love or money" from the programme of temptation, there remained little else except patience. In the meantime I endeavoured to hire a canoe. The Presidente kindly undertook to do this for me with the help of a well-known Colonel, one of the most revered men in the city.

"There is only one boat on the Araguaya," said the Presidente to me. "You cannot build a raft, as all the woods in these regions are too heavy and not one will float. You must hire that boat or nothing."

View of Goyaz City from Sta. Barbara.

Author's Men packing Animals.

The honoured Colonel his friend also impressed that point well upon me. "Only that boat or nothing." They also added that they had arranged for me to hire that boat for four days, and it would only cost me £500 sterling. My distinguished friends had taken ten days to arrange that bargain. It took me ten seconds[121] to disarrange it all. All the more as I had heard that a German traveller, Dr. Krause, had the previous year gone down the Araguaya River, where he had done excellent research work, and had also travelled up the tributary Tapirapez, crossing over nearly as far as the Xingu River. He had found in that region no Indians and the country of little interest. Furthermore, on my arrival in Goyaz capital I learnt that a Brazilian Government expedition, under the leadership of Dr. Pimentel, had already been in Goyaz some six months trying to start on a journey down the Araguaya, and, if possible, also to go up the Tapirapez and other tributaries of that great stream. Moreover, the Araguaya was perhaps, after the Madeira, one of the best known southern tributaries of the Amazon. As we have already seen, during the time of Dom Pedro, the Emperor, there was even steam navigation almost all along the course of the upper Araguaya as far as Leopoldina, the port for Goyaz capital. Several Englishmen and Germans and very many Brazilians had travelled on that river, where even military posts had at one time been established at intervals on its banks.

So that, rather than be imposed upon and travel for hundreds of kilometres in so well-known a region, I decided slightly to alter my route in order to cover ground that was newer and infinitely more interesting and important.

The Presidente's friend, the highly revered Colonel, had also undertaken to purchase a number of horses and mules for me. "The people of Goyaz," said he, "are terrible thieves; they will swindle you if you buy them yourself. I will purchase them for you and[122] you will then pay me back the money. By to-morrow morning," he had stated, "I shall have all the horses and mules you require."

This was on the day of my arrival in Goyaz. Twelve days after that date he appeared with a famished, skeleton-like horse—only one—for which he made me pay nearly double what I had myself paid for other excellent animals.

I took care after that experience to beware of the "revered and honest men of Goyaz." Those who behaved honestly were generally those who were described as thieves. Everything is reversed in Brazil, and I should have known better.

Let us have a look around the city. Mules and horses were grazing in the principal square on a severe slope; the streets were paved in a fashion calculated to dislocate your feet or possibly break them if you happened to be walking out after dark. There was not the slightest semblance of drainage in any part of the town. The people flung out into the streets all that could be flung out, and also a good deal that should not be flung. The dirt was excessive all over the place when the rain did not come to the rescue and wash it all off.

The boast of the town was its brilliant illumination—one hundred petroleum lights all told, lighted up until ten p.m. when there was no moon. When there was, or should have been, a moon, as on stormy nights, the municipality economized on the paraffin and the lamps were not lighted. I do not know anything more torturing than returning home every night after my dinner at the palace, walking on the slippery, worn[123] slabs of stone of the pavements, at all angles—some were even vertical—in the middle of the road. You stumbled, slipped, twisted your feet, jamming them in the wide interstices between the slabs. I never could understand why the municipality troubled to have lights at all. They gave no light when they were lighted—not enough to see by them—and they were absolutely of no use to the natives themselves. By eight o'clock p.m. all the people were asleep and barricaded within their homes.

Yet—can you believe it?—in this mediæval city you would be talked about considerably and would give much offence if you went out of your house in clothes such as you would wear in England in the country. On Sundays and during all Easter week—when I was there—all the men went out in their frock-coats, top hats of grotesquely antiquated shapes, extra high starched collars, and, above all, patent leather shoes—with the sun scorching overhead. The women were amusing enough in their finery—which had been perhaps the fashion elsewhere fifty or sixty or more years ago. But they believed they were as well-dressed and quite as up-to-date as the smartest women of Paris or London. They never let an opportunity pass of telling you so.

The most striking building in the principal square of Goyaz was the prison. I visited it in the company of the Chief of Police. The place had been specially cleaned on the occasion of my visit, and that particular day it looked quite neat. I was shown very good food which—at least that day—had been prepared for the prisoners. Nearly all the prisoners were murderers. "But the biggest criminals of all," said the[124] Chief of Police to me, "are not inside this prison; they are outside!" The poor devils inside were mere wretches who had not been able to bribe the judges.

Curiously enough, petty theft was considered a shame in the Province of Goyaz, and was occasionally severely punished; whereas murderers were usually set free. I saw a poor negro there who had stolen a handful of beans and had been sent to five years' penal servitude, while others who had killed were merely sentenced to a few months' punishment. In any case, no one in Brazil can be sentenced to more than thirty years' detention, no matter how terrible the crime he has committed.

The display of police guarding the prison was somewhat excessive. There were fifty policemen to guard fifty prisoners: policemen standing at each door, policemen at each corner of the building, while a swarm of them occupied the front hall. The various common cells were entered by trap doors in the ceiling, of great height, and by a ladder which was let down. Thus escape was rendered improbable, the iron bars of the elevated windows being sounded every morning and night for further safety.

The sanitary arrangements were of the most primitive kind, a mere bucket in a corner serving the needs of eight or ten men in each chamber.

As there was no lunatic asylum in Goyaz, insane people were sent to prison and were kept and treated like criminals.

I noticed several interesting cases of insanity: it generally took either a religious or a criminal form in Brazil. One man, with a ghastly degenerate face,[125] and his neck encircled by a heavy iron collar, was chained to the strong bars of a window. His hands and feet were also chained. The chain at his neck was so short that he could only move a few inches away from the iron bars. He sat crouched like a vicious dog on the window-ledge, howling and spitting at us as we passed. His clothes were torn to shreds; his eyes were sunken and staring, his long, thin, sinewy arms, with hands which hung as if dead, occasionally and unconsciously touching this or that near them. I tried to get close, to talk and examine him; but his fury was so great against the policeman who accompanied me that it was impossible to get near. He was trying to bite like a mad dog, and injured himself in his efforts to get at us. Another lunatic, too—loose in a chamber with other prisoners—gave a wonderful exhibition of fury—that time against me, as he was under the impression that I had come there to kill him! He was ready to spring at me when two policemen seized him and drove him back.

There was a theatre in Goyaz—a rambling shed of no artistic pretensions. The heat inside that building was stifling. When I inquired why there were no windows to ventilate the place I was told that a leading Goyaz gentleman, having once travelled to St. Petersburg in Russia in winter-time, and having seen there a theatre with no windows, eventually returned to his native city, and immediately had all the windows of the theatre walled up, regardless of the fact that what is suitable in a semi-arctic climate is hardly fit for a stifling tropical country.

One thing that struck me most in Goyaz was the[126] incongruity of the people. With the little literature which found its way so far in the interior, most of the men professed advanced social and religious ideas, the majority making pretence of atheism in a very acute form. "Down with faith: down with religion: down with the priests!" was their cry.

Yet, much to my amazement—I was there in Easter week—one evening there was a religious procession through the town. What did I see? All those fierce atheists, with bare, penitent heads stooping low, carrying lighted candles and wooden images of our crucified Saviour and the Virgin! The procession was extremely picturesque, the entire population, dressed up for the occasion, being out in the streets that night, while all the men, including the policemen and federal soldiers—all bareheaded—walked meekly along in the procession, each carrying a candle. When the procession arrived at the church, the Presidente himself—another atheist—respectfully attended the service; then the priest came out and delivered a spirited sermon to the assembled crowds in the square. Then you saw those atheists—old and young, civil and military—again kneeling on the hard and irregular paving-stones—some had taken the precaution to spread their handkerchiefs so as not to soil their trousers—and beating their chests and murmuring prayers, and shaking their heads in sign of repentance.

Such is the world! The prettiest part of the procession was that formed by the young girls, all garbed in immaculate white, and with jet-black hair—masses of it—hanging loose upon their shoulders. The chanting was musical and the whole affair most impressive.

[127] I had received somewhat of a shock in the morning on passing the principal church—there were five or six in Goyaz. Spread out upon the pavement was the life-size wooden figure of our Saviour—which had evidently long been stored in a damp cellar—much mildewed and left there in the sun in preparation for the evening performance. The red wig of real hair, with its crown of thorns, had been removed and was drying upon a convenient neighbouring shrub! Really, those people of Goyaz were an amusing mixture of simplicity and superstition.

One great redeeming point of the people of Goyaz was that they were extremely charitable. They had erected a huge building as a workhouse. It was entirely supported by charity. A small library had also been established.

As I have elsewhere stated, I needed for my expedition no less than thirty men, so that they could, if necessary, carry all my instruments, cameras, provisions, ammunition, etc., where animals could not get through.

Fourteen long and tedious days elapsed in Goyaz. No one could be induced to come. In despair I sent a despatch to the Minister of Agriculture, asking for the loan of at least four soldiers—whom I should naturally have paid out of my own pocket, as I had duly explained to the Presidente, who backed my request. To my regret I received a reply from the Minister of War saying that at that moment the Government could not possibly spare four soldiers. It must be said that, although the men of Goyaz did not shine for their bravery, it was not so with the ladies, several of whom offered, if necessary, to accompany the ex[128]pedition and do, of course, the work of the men. I believe that they meant it.

I have, indeed, the greatest respect and admiration for the noble self-sacrifice of the women of Goyaz. Devoted mothers and wives, to men who deserved no devotion at all—nearly all the men had concubines—gentle, humble, thoughtful, simple and hard-working, they did all the work in the house. They were a great contrast to the lazy, conceited, vain male portion of the population. Certainly, in a population of 10,000 people, I met two or three men who deserved respect, but they were the exception.

If the men were so timid, it was not altogether their fault; they could not help it. It was enough to look at them to see that no great feats of bravery could be expected of them. They were under-developed, exhausted, eaten up by the most terrible complaint of the blood. The lives in which they merely vegetated were without any mental stimulus. Many suffered from goître, others had chests that were pitiful to look at, so under-developed were they; all continually complained, every time you spoke to them, of headache, toothache, backache, or some other ache. They were always dissatisfied with life and with the world at large, and had no energy whatever to try and improve their condition. They were extremely polite; they had a conventional code of good manners, to which, they adhered faithfully—but that was all.

Some of Author's Pack Animals.

At the end of the fourteen days in Goyaz I had been able to purchase a good number of mules and horses—at a very high price, as the people would not otherwise part with their quadrupeds. Also I[129] had collected all the riding and pack saddles and harness necessary, a sufficient quantity of spare shoes for the animals, a number of large saws, axes, picks and spades, large knives for cutting our way through the forest, and every possible implement necessary on a journey of the kind I was about to undertake. Everything was ready—except the men!

Alcides Ferreiro do Santos and Filippe da Costa de Britto—the two men lent me by Mr. Louis Schnoor in Araguary—upon seeing my plight were at last induced to accompany the expedition at a salary of close upon a pound sterling a day each.

At the last moment the Presidente came to my rescue. He supplied me with six men.

"They are criminals," he said to me, "and they will give you no end of trouble"—a fact fully demonstrated three hours later that same evening, when one of them—an ex-policeman—disappeared for ever with a few pounds sterling I had advanced him in order to purchase clothes. Another fellow vanished later, carrying away some 40 lb. of coffee, sugar, knives, and other sundries. So then I had two criminals less.

I packed my animals, and was about to depart with the four remaining rascals and the two Araguary men—six all told—when a policeman, sent in haste, called me to the Palace. The truly good-hearted Presidente and his charming family were in a great state of mind. They told me that my men had gone about the town the previous night drinking, and had confided to friends that they were merely coming with me in order to murder and rob me of all I possessed as soon as they[130] had an opportunity. It was an open secret that I carried a very large sum of money upon my person, as after leaving São Paulo city it was impossible to obtain money by cashing cheques on letters of credit or other such civilized means, and it was imperative for me to carry several thousand pounds sterling in cash in order to be able to purchase horses, mules, boats, food, and pay the men, as long as the journey should last.

When you stop to consider that I had before me the prospect of not replenishing my exchequer for at least one year, or perhaps two years or more, it will be easily understood that if one wants to travel, and travel quickly as I do, there is no other possible way than to carry the money with one in hard cash. The risk was certainly enormous, although no one except myself ever really knew the amount that I actually carried. A large portion of that sum was in Brazilian notes, a good deal in English bank-notes, and some four hundred pounds sterling in English gold. As I could trust nobody, that sum, except what I gradually spent, and barring the few moments when I took my daily morning bath, never left my person, even for a few minutes, for the entire period of one year. Most of the notes were contained in two bulky leather bags and the gold in a third, attached firmly to a strong belt which day and night—much to my discomfort—encircled my waist. The larger bank-notes, letters of credit, etc., were divided into my various coat, shirt, and trousers pockets. The gold was so heavy that it caused with its friction a large sore on my right hip—a sore which remained there more or less for an entire year.

[131] "You cannot start under such conditions," said the Presidente appealingly. "I cannot furnish other men. No one will go, notwithstanding the high pay you give them."

I thanked the Presidente for his exquisite kindness, and for the very generous and thoughtful hospitality he and his delightful family had offered me in Goyaz, and which left in my mind the only pleasant moments spent in that dull city.

[132]

A few minutes later I had again joined my caravan, watched intently, at a respectful distance, by a few astonished natives of Goyaz. As soon as all my mules and horses had been packed—they were very heavily laden—I took my departure in a direction north-west by west. The six men mounted on mules came along. I had armed all my followers with the best repeating carbines that are made, as well as with excellent automatic pistols, and the long daggers locally used; but personally I carried no weapons of any kind.

Having been unsuccessful in obtaining sufficient men from the officials of Goyaz, there yet remained for me one last faint hope. It was to try and get a few followers from the Indian colony of the Salesian friars, a few days' journey west of the Araguaya River.

On April 26th, from the height of Santa Barbara (elev. 2,150 ft. above the sea level), a picturesque chapel and graveyard to the west of the city, I bade good-bye for good to Goyaz capital (elev. 1,950 ft.). One obtained from this point a fine view of the entire city spreading from north to south, at the bottom of the imposing frame of mountains on the south with their extraordinary columnar formation. Each natural[133] column, with its mineral composition and crystallization, shone like silver in the bright light. The ensemble from our point of vantage resembled the set of pipes of an immense church organ. High hills stood to the east. In the distance to the south-west the lower country was open with the exception of mountains in the far background.

We marched rapidly enough across wooded country until we crossed the Rio Vermelho (elev. 1,750 ft.). My men became very excited and began firing their carbines recklessly. I had handed to them fifty cartridges each, with strict instructions not to fire without my orders. I was some distance off. When I heard the fusillade I immediately galloped to the spot. The men had blazed away nearly all their ammunition, nor would they cease firing when I ordered them until they had exhausted their supply of 300 cartridges in all. Why were they firing? Because, said they, they had crossed the first water on their journey.

My heart absolutely sank into my boots when I realized that it was my fate to travel with such contemptible imbeciles for perhaps a year longer or more, and that was only the first day! Oh, what a prospect! We had our first quarrel when the men demanded to have their belts replenished with cartridges for their protection against attack. As I refused to let them have them there was a mutiny, the men declining to go on another yard unless the cartridges were handed to them. We had not been gone more than three hours, and a mutiny already! With a great deal of patience I induced them to go on, which they eventually did with oaths and language somewhat unpleasant. Still I held firm.

[134] After several ascents and descents and a great many mishaps with our mules, unaccustomed yet to the work, we made camp, having marched 18 kil., on the bank of the Rio Agapa (elev. 1,650 ft.), near which the grazing was fair.

Two mules escaped during the night, and we could only make a late start the next morning. Alcides traced them all the way back to Goyaz, where he recovered them. Up and down we went, from 1,760 ft. to 1,550 ft., at which elevation we crossed the Rio Indio with a beautiful rocky bed the banks of which showed strata of red and grey clay and delicious crystalline water. No fossils of any kind were to be seen anywhere, although I looked hard in search of them all the time. The country was undulating and fairly thickly wooded near streams, otherwise it consisted mostly of campos, at the highest point of which another beautiful panoramic view of the escarpment in the plateau we had left behind could be obtained. The elevation was constantly changing between 1,750 ft. and 2,050 ft. above the sea level. Burity and other palms were plentiful. We crossed that day three streams, the last one the Rio Uva.

In a distance of 38 kil. we saw only a miserable shed, although we passed a site where a ruined house and paddock showed that once there must have been quite an ancient and important farm. Yes, indeed, Goyaz State had seen better days in the time of the Emperor and when slavery was legal. With the present lack of population and the prohibitive prices of labour it was impossible to carry on farming profitably.

[135] The landscape was everywhere beautiful, but one never saw a bird, never perceived a butterfly, nor any other animal life of any kind. I was just remarking this fact to Alcides when a snake, eight or nine feet long, crossed at a great speed in front of my mule. The mules and horses were rather frightened at first of snakes, and it was amusing to watch how high they stepped when they saw them and tried to escape from them. We were in great luck. A flock of six beautiful red araras (macaws) passed above our heads. They looked perfectly gorgeous as they flapped their wings heavily and shrieked loudly as they sped along.

The formation of the soil in that region was interesting enough. Under a greyish white surface layer there were thin sedimentary strata of pebbles, deposited evidently by water, then under these a thick stratum—30 ft. or more—of warm-coloured red earth. The streams which had cut their way through this geological formation were invariably limpid in the extreme.

We were beginning to find beautiful flowers and butterflies again, the latter in great swarms near the water.

My caravan of grey and white pack-animals—some fourteen—was quite a picturesque sight as it wound its way down steep hill-sides, the mounted men urging the mules with shouts and lashes from their whips. We experienced difficulty in finding a good camp that night, the grazing being poor and the water scarce when sunset came. It seemed a pity that the most suitable camping places were not always to be found when you wished to halt!

We were now at an elevation of 1,550 ft. When[136] we proceeded the next morning we found nothing of interest. Fairly wooded country alternated with campos, at first rather undulating, then almost flat, until we arrived at the Tapirapuana River (elev. 1,350 ft.), 8 yards wide and 3 ft. deep, which we crossed without much trouble, in the afternoon, at a spot some 28 kil. distant from our last camp. Luxuriant foliage hung over the banks right down into the water, which flowed so slowly—only at the rate of 1,080 metres an hour—that it looked almost stagnant, and of a muddy, dirty, greenish colour.

We were much troubled by mosquitoes, flies and carrapatinhos, the latter a kind of tiny little clinging parasite which swarmed absolutely all over us every time we put our feet on the ground on dismounting from our animals. The irritation was such that you actually drove your nails into your skin in scratching yourself. They could only be driven away by smearing oneself all over with tobacco juice, the local remedy, or with strong carbolic soap, which I generally used, and which worked even more satisfactorily.

A tubercular leper came to spend the evening in our camp. He was most repulsive, with his enlarged features, especially the nose, of a ghastly, shiny, unwholesome, greenish white, and pitifully swollen feet and hands.

The heat was not unbearable in that region—89° Fahrenheit in the shade, 105° in the sun. There was a breeze blowing that day from the north-east, with a velocity of 200 metres a minute by anemometer.

A good portion of the following day was wasted trying to recover four animals that had escaped. In[137] order that they might graze properly it was necessary to let them loose. They sometimes strayed away long distances. Occasionally they hid in the shade of the matto (forest and shrub), and it was easy to miss them while looking for them. Luckily, two of my men—Alcides and a man called Antonio—were excellent trackers, and sooner or later they were generally able to bring back the animals, which was not at all difficult, as one only had to follow the marks of their hoofs to find where they had gone.

We departed late in the afternoon through thick shrub, over marked undulations—in some spots quite steep. From the highest point that day (elev. 1,900 ft.) we obtained an extensive view of flat tablelands in the distance to the east, with a low hill-range standing in front of them. It was scenery quite typical of Central Brazil, with no irregular, striking mountains; but everywhere we had plenty to study in the effects of erosion on that great continent.

I tried to make up for time lost by marching at night—a most trying experience, as my men, unaccustomed to the work and frightened at every shadow, let the mules stray in all directions. I unfortunately had to hand over to my followers a few cartridges each, or else they would not come on. Every now and then that night they fired recklessly in the dark—much to the danger of beasts and men alike—thinking they had seen an Indian, or a leopard, or some other wild animal. I was glad when we arrived in camp and ascertained that no one had been wounded.

That night-march demoralized animals and men alike. Most of the animals strayed away during the[138] night, as the grazing was bad where we halted. I was compelled to halt for two days in that miserable spot, simply devoured by flies and mosquitoes and carrapatos, in order to recover them.

If you do not know what a carrapato is, let me tell you. It is an insect of the order of Diptera and the genus Mosca pupiparas, and is technically known as Melophagus ovinus. Its flattened, almost circular body varies in size from the head of an ordinary nail to the section of a good-sized pencil. Like the carrapatinho—its miniature reproduction—it possesses wonderful clinging powers, its legs with hook attachment actually entering under the skin. Its chief delight consists in inserting its head right under your cutaneous tissues, wherefrom it can suck your blood with convenient ease. It is wonderfully adept at this, and while I was asleep, occasionally as many as eight or ten of these brutes were able to settle down comfortably to their work without my noticing them; and some—and it speaks highly for their ability—were even able to enter my skin (in covered parts of the body) in the day-time when I was fully awake, without my detecting them. I believe that previous to inserting the head they must inject some poison which deadens the sensitiveness of the skin. It is only after they have been at work some hours that a slight itching causes their detection. Then comes the difficulty of extracting them. If in a rash moment you seize the carrapato by the body and pull, its head becomes separated from its body and remains under your skin, poisoning it badly and eventually causing unpleasant sores. Having been taught the proper process of extraction, I, like all[139] my men, carried on my person a large pin. When the carrapato was duly located—it is quite easy to see it, as the large body remains outside—the pin was duly pushed right through its body. The carrapato, thus surprised, at once let go with its clinging legs, which struggled pitifully in the air. Then with strong tobacco juice or liquefied carbolic soap, or iodine, you smeared all round the place where the head was still inserted. The unpleasantness of these various beverages immediately persuaded the brute to withdraw its head at once. You could then triumphantly wave the pin and struggling carrapato in the air. You were liberated from the unpleasant visitor. It was not uncommon while you were extracting one—the operation took some little time—for two or three others to find their way into your legs or body. I fortunately possess blood which does not easily get poisoned, and felt no ill effects from the hundreds of these brutes which fed on me during the entire journey; but many people suffer considerably. My men, for instance, had nasty-looking sores produced by the bites of the carrapato. The mules and horses were simply swarming with these insects, which gave them no end of trouble, especially as they selected the tenderest parts of the skin in various localities of the body to settle upon. Where an animal had a sore it would soon be swarming with carrapatos near its edge. It would then putrefy, and maggots in hundreds would be produced inside the wound almost within a few hours.

There was, near by, an old moradoria, a large patch of muricy trees (Byrsonima), of which various species exist. These were not unlike small olive[140] trees and produced a small sweet fruit quite good to eat.

We went for 22 kil. through a forest with beautiful fan palms over 30 ft. high. There was no animal life. We crossed three streamlets, the country between being undulating. Between the last two streams we came across rock showing through the alluvial deposits. It was an interesting conglomerate of minute crystals cemented together by hardened clay, the whole forming large blocks.

More trouble was in store for us. One of my mules was seriously injured. Its spine was so badly strained that it was quite disabled for further work. My cook, who had a slight attack of indigestion, wished to be left there to die, and declined to proceed any farther. With true Brazilian reasoning he wished, nevertheless, to be paid off before dying. With true English reasoning I explained to him that money would be of little use to him in the next world. If he really intended to die I would certainly not pay him, but his wages would naturally go on while he was alive, continued the journey, and did the cooking. He quickly returned to life, and to his senses.

Really, in the entire experiences of my travels I have never come across more pitiable specimens of manhood than those fellows. They absolutely gave me a sickly feeling that I never lost while they were with me, for many many months to come. The animals, too, were almost as bad as the men. They had little endurance, they had no courage, everything seemed to affect them. The worst Abyssinian mule, for instance, was, for equal work, vastly superior to the best Goyaz[141] mule. It was a useless task to try and train those animals. On my many previous expeditions I had been able to win the affection of my animals, and was able to train them in a few days so that they obeyed with the perfection of soldiers, but in Brazil, the last day I had them—after several months that they had been with me—they were just as disobedient and stupid as on the first day. In fact, they never even seemed to recognize us again. They had learnt absolutely nothing, except bad habits. Everything seemed to frighten them. One mule, for instance, was afraid of crossing small streams. Its legs invariably began to quiver on entering the water, and down would go mule and baggage rolling into the water. All the thrashing in the world could not make it get up. We had to drag the brute bodily across the stream, when it would jump up on its legs again. It was quite futile to try and prevent that animal collapsing every time it had to go across water. So that, on approaching any streamlet, we had to unload it in order at least to prevent the baggage getting soaked.

The interior of Brazil—even comparatively near a city, as we were still to Goyaz—did not compare in civilization with the lowest and poorest countries of Central Asia or Africa. Humble countries like Persia and Beluchistan or Abyssinia some ten or fifteen years ago were more advanced than Brazil to-day. They had good trails on which a regular postal service was established, there were regular rest-houses on those trails, and horses or camels could easily be hired and exchanged at the different stations, so that one could travel comparatively quickly. It was not so in Brazil.[142] Even if you wished to take a short journey of a few days from a city, you had to purchase your horses or your mules, and have the riding and pack saddles made for you at a high cost.

As we have seen, even in the city of Goyaz itself, there did not exist a single hotel, nor did we find a proper rest-house in the 531 kil. between the railway terminus and Goyaz capital. Nor is there one of these conveniences west between Goyaz and Cuyaba, the capital of Matto Grosso. Of course there were no hotels because nobody travelled, but it can also be said that many people do not care to travel where there are no hotels. In so humble and poor a country as Persia you always could indulge in a delicious bath in every caravanserai, which you found in the remotest spots all over the country. In Brazil you have to resort to the streams, where the moment you remove your clothes you are absolutely devoured by mosquitoes, flies and insects of all kinds—a perfect torture, I can assure you. Once you were in the water, immersed up to the mouth, it took a brave man to come out again, as millions of mosquitoes and flies and gnats circled angrily and greedily above your head ready for the attack the moment you came out.

We were travelling all the time at elevations varying from 1,450 ft. at our last camp to 1,400 ft. at our present camp, the highest elevation between these two places being on a rocky hillock about 100 ft. higher than those altitudes.

Our camp was on a streamlet flowing from south to north, of milky water containing lime, which made our tongues and gums smart when we drank it.

[143] Again on May 3rd we went through forest all the time, with wonderful palms and many medicinal plants. Alcides had an extensive knowledge of the curative qualities of the various plants. Various species of the Caroba (Bignoniaceæ), very beneficial, they say, as a blood purifier, especially in the worst of terrible complaints, were plentiful there. Giant nettles, the Ortiga or Cassausan, as it is locally called, were also frequently noticeable, especially when we passed too near and were stung all over by them.

We had risen to 1,200 ft. on the summit of a range called O Fogo. From it we had another exquisite view of the mountain range called Bucainha, which we had left behind to the east. It had a marked erosion on its north side.

On the west side of the pass we found curious small domes as well as pillars and other rocks of columnar formation. We had met during the day many Aricori palms, which, I was told, produced a sweet fruit excellent to eat when ripe, in the month of November.

After a steep rocky descent we made our camp. We halted earlier than usual. I was sitting outside my tent while my dinner was being cooked. I could not help smiling at the warlike array which had been necessary in order to make a start from Goyaz. The camp was a regular armoury. Beautiful magazine rifles, now rusty and dirty owing to the carelessness of the men, were lying about on the ground; revolvers and automatic pistols stuck half out of their slings on the men's belts as they walked about the camp; large knives and daggers had been thrown about, and so had the huge, heavy, nickel-plated spurs of the men, with[144] their gigantic spiked wheels. These wheels were as much as two inches in diameter and even more. It was the habit of Brazilians to wear the spurs upside down, so that when they got off their mounts they had to remove them or it would have been impossible for them to walk. Naturally, worn like that, they were much more effective, and were intended to torment the animals with greater success.

I reprimanded the men for keeping their weapons so dirty. One man thereupon sat himself three feet away from me and proceeded to clean his rifle, keeping the muzzle pointed constantly at me. On my suggesting that he might point the weapon in another direction he roughly replied the usual thing: "There is nothing to be afraid of, it is not loaded"—and he proceeded to pull the trigger, the gun pointed straight at me, when I leapt up and snatched it out of his hands. There was a cartridge in the barrel and several cartridges in the magazine.

Author's Caravan across the Immense Prairies of Matto Grosso.

During the night the fusillade was constant. It was enough for the men to hear a leaf fall. Immediately there was an alarm and the rifles were fired. Once or twice the bullets came so unpleasantly near me that I suspected they were intended for me. I thanked my stars that my men were bad shots. To make sure of this fact, I one day had a shooting competition. After that I became quite assured that it was sufficient to be at the spot where they aimed to consider myself in absolute safety. It was not so, of course, when they aimed somewhere else. I did not care to take away the cartridges from them altogether, as they would have then imagined that I was afraid of them—an impres[145]sion which it would have been fatal to let them entertain even for a moment. Each man was allowed to replenish his belt each day to the extent of ten cartridges.

I have elsewhere referred to the absurd pack-saddles used in Brazil, so heavy and unsteady when going over rough country, with the underpads so difficult to adjust that the animals were soon a mass of sores on the back, the sides of the body, on the chest and tail. I had other lighter and more sensible saddles, but I had to discard them as the Brazilians would not hear of using them, and I gave up in despair of teaching them how to pack them. I eventually left those saddles behind.

The riding-saddles, too, were almost as absurd as the pack-saddles, constructed as they were of innumerable and useless pieces of wood, iron and leather. The stirrups were gaudy, and consisted of a regular shoe of silver or other metal, into which you inserted the greater part of your foot, or else of a much ornamented circular ring. The head-piece and bit were also extremely heavy, clumsy, and highly decorated, for everything must be made for show if it had to be used in Brazil.

It was not possible to associate in any way or be friendly with my men. They were unpleasant beyond all conception. One could not say a word—no matter how kind—without the prospect of a long argument or a row. It was quite beyond them to be civil, and, like all ignorant people, they always imagined that they could teach others everything—including good manners! They were ridiculously courteous to one another—a muleteer talking to another always address[146]ing him as "Sir," and referring to his comrades as his "colleagues."

We travelled that day nearly altogether over finely powdered reddish earth of volcanic origin. I had so far not met with a single fossil, not a shell, not a petrified bone of any animal, nor, indeed, impressions on rock of leaves, twigs or other parts of plants. The farther one went on, the more one had proof that that portion at least of the American continent had never been submerged in its entirety.

Some rocks displayed on the surface peculiar perforations such as would be produced by incessant water dripping over them, but these were caused, I think, merely by water falling over them while they were in a molten state; other rocks were thoroughly polished on the surface, as if sand or other gritty substance had flowed with great force over them, mixed with water—perhaps during a period of volcanic activity and torrential rains.

Geological research was somewhat difficult for a passing traveller in that region, for everything was smothered in vegetation. Only here and there in the cuts of rivers was I able to judge a little better of the actual formation of the land.

We camped on the stream Agua Limpa, which duly deserved its name of "clear water" (elev. 1,470 ft.). It flowed south. On May 4th, going through forest again over a hill (elev. 1,650 ft.), we obtained a glorious view of the immense expanse to the west and to the south-west—a great stretch of greenish, long sweeping lines with a plateau in the background. A somewhat taller hill rose at one end of it. We then descended to another deliciously clear river, which deserved as well as the[147] previous one the name of Agua Limpa (elev. 1,450 ft.), but this one flowed north into the Rio Claro. The land was fine, sparsely wooded all the time, absolutely flat, but getting slightly undulating beyond that stream. It seemed wonderful land for agricultural purposes.

After passing the Indain River, the Bom Successo, and another stream, all three flowing south, we swerved more to the north-west, rising up on an elevated spot, from which we obtained another glorious panorama, a high Serra to the west, another in the distance to the east, the two extending almost parallel towards the south, where the gap in the horizon line between these ranges was filled by a very distant range showing a conical peak, and to the west of this another in the shape of a dome. It was the grandeur of these panoramas that impressed one most, rather than their monotonous beauty.

All the outlines of the scenery of Central Brazil had, so to speak, been worn smooth by the erosive action of water and wind, so that no fantastically shaped mountains had yet been encountered, no landscape which some great commotion had rendered strangely picturesque. There, only the steady work of uncountable ages showed itself in a most impressive way to those who understood. From a striking pictorial point of view very little remained in one's mind of those wonderful scenes after one had turned one's head away, except, perhaps, their immensity and the deep green tones—the two salient points of the scenery.

When we had descended from the pass (elev. 1,650 ft.) we came to the Rio Tres de Majo, where a hamlet[148] of three sheds was found. Twenty-eight kilometres from our last camp we arrived at the Rio Rancheria, where stood a miserable farm. Both those streams, at an elevation of 1,300 ft., flowed into the Rio Claro to the north.

We had the misfortune of halting near the farmhouse, and suffered tortures from the millions of mosquitoes, gnats, carrapatos and carrapatinhos which made that night almost unbearable. I invariably found that carrapatos and carrapatinhos were more plentiful where living people or animals were to be found. Near those dirty farmhouses we were simply swarming all over with them. My poor animals, owing to the long marches we had been making, and the terrible pack-saddles, had sore backs and loins, sore chests. Yet we could not stop, and the poor things must stand the pain and strain.

[149]

An amusing incident happened. A cow chewed up the coat of one of my men, which was lying on the ground. In his fury the owner of the coat, on discovering the misdeed, seized his carbine and fired four shots at the cow and four at the farmhouse. None of us could tell where the bullets went. The cow, startled by the shots, gave a few jumps and kicks, then, absolutely uninjured, peacefully continued grazing. The house too remained untouched. Amazing shots my men were!

Across almost flat country we reached the Rio Claro—"the Limpid River" (elev. 1,250 ft. above the sea level), 200 metres wide, and flowing along a winding course in a general direction of south-west to north-east. Wide beaches of sand and fine gravel were to be seen on the convex or inner curves of its channel. Along the banks there was luxuriant vegetation, which hung down and dipped into the water.

Diamonds were to be found in that river. At low water curious eruptive, highly ferruginous rocks showed in the river bed, some in the shape of spherical balls riddled with perforations, as if they had been in a state of ebullition, others as little pellets of yellow lava, such[150] as I had before encountered between Araguary and Goyaz, and which suggested the spluttering of molten rock suddenly cooled by contact with cold air or water.

We encamped some three kilometres from the Rio Claro, on the streamlet Arejado, where again we were devoured by mosquitoes. Although we all had thick mosquito nets, and although we slept wrapped—head and all—in our respective blankets, the brutes managed to find their way in and stung us with incredible vigour. We were fresh blood for them. The irritation caused by their bites was a torment.

We were now getting closer to the country where we were to meet the terrible wild Indians, the most ferocious and cruel cannibals on earth, according to the accounts heard in Goyaz. My men were already beginning to lose heart. With the sleepless night due to the mosquitoes, and the heavy atmosphere caused by a fast-approaching thunderstorm, they were morose in the morning. With the exception of Alcides and the negro Filippe, the others came insolently forward and refused to go any farther. They shoved the muzzles of their rifles under my nose; they wished to be paid up instantly and go back. With a little patience it was easy to get out of difficulties of that sort, if you possessed the gift of keeping calm.

Faithful Alcides, who had a fiery temper, seized his rifle and was about to fire at them, when I took the weapon from him.

"Do not shoot them, Alcides: these men have been good (sic) until now because they were in good health. They are bad now because they are ill. I will cure them."

[151] And so saying I felt the pulse and forehead of the astonished rioters.

"Yes, indeed, these men are very, very ill. They need medicine. Alcides, get the castor oil—the large tin."

I had two kinds of castor oil: one tasteless—pour façon de parler—for my own use and cases of serious illness; another in large tins, of the commonest kind, with an odour that would kill an ox, which I used occasionally for punishment on my men when they were disobedient.

Alcides, who quickly entered into the spirit of that little joke, immediately produced the deadly tin, collecting upon the ground the four cups belonging to the strikers. Taking my instructions, he poured some four ounces of the sickening oil into each cup—and perhaps a little more. I handed a cup to each man and saw that he drank it. They all eventually did so, with comic grimaces and oaths. The men, I must tell you, had great faith in my powers as a medicine man. Once or twice before I had already cured them of insignificant ailments, and whenever I told them seriously that they were ill they believed, in their ignorance, that they were really ill.

This done, and to put them again in a good temper, I patted them on the back and, handing each of them a fish-hook and a line, sent them all to fish in the river, saying that as they were so ill I would delay my departure until the afternoon.

"That pool, over there," some three hundred yards distant, I suggested would be an excellent place for them to fish in. In that direction, as meek as lambs, like so[152] many naughty children they all went, carrying the lines away and some toucinho (lard) for bait. Alcides, who was an enthusiastic fisherman, also went off with a line, and had good sport. He reported that the other men lay flat upon their backs most of the time, groaning and moaning, upon the rocks, basking in the sun instead of fishing. The castor oil in any case had the desired effect that the men did not mutiny again for some time.

We did not leave camp until 2 p.m. The country was teeming with plants of great medicinal value, such as the sucupira, which gave a bean much used in Goyaz to relieve stomach troubles; the algudanzinho, with its lovely cadmium-yellow cup-shaped flower—a plant which was most plentiful in that region, and the root of which was said to be very beneficial for the worst of venereal complaints; and also the acaraiba. Many were the handsome wild flowers we came across, principally red and yellow; but to my mind they could bear no comparison with even the ugliest European wild flowers. They were coarse in shape and crude in colour, and in their beauty there was the same difference as there would be between the lovely refined face of an aristocratic woman and that of a handsome massive peasant girl.

Water was certainly not lacking in that country. We crossed the Rio Striminho, then the Rio Stacco flowing from south-west to north-east into a lagoon formed by the Rio Claro. We camped on the bank of the Rio Stacco. The water was delicious.

The Araguaya River (looking North).

The Araguaya (looking South).

The negro Filippe killed a wild boar. My men had a great time preparing a huge dinner. They absolutely[153] gorged themselves. Personally I never touch pig in any shape or form, as I cannot get over the idea that its meat is poisonous for any thoroughly healthy person. It may, of course, not be so to people who are not absolutely healthy. The very sight and odour of it make me quite ill, and I fully share the idea of Mahommedans that the meat—certainly of tame pigs—is most unclean.

As we went on we had good sport, my men taking the greatest delight in fishing in the rivers on the banks of which we halted. The travelling was easy over flat country. We made short marches for some days, in order to let the animals recover their lost strength. In the river Las Almas (elev. 1,250 ft.), 20 metres wide and 3 ft. deep, flowing north-west, we caught a beautiful pintado fish—so called because of its spotted appearance. That fish possessed a huge flat head, with long feelers, two on the nose—at the side of the nostrils, to be accurate—two under its lower mandible. The mouth was enormous in comparison with the total length of the fish, and could be opened at an extraordinarily wide angle. Inside were most peculiar teeth in sets of twos, while the mouth was lined with thousands of hard, tiny sharp points. The eyes were far back upon the skull. The bony dome of the palate was divided in the centre, and a similar separation was to be observed in the centre of the lower jaw, giving thus a great flexibility to the interior of the mouth. When measured, the length of the head was exactly one-third of the length of the entire fish.

Other fish, too, were caught that day, called mandibé or fidalgo.

[154] The aspect of the country was gradually changing. During that day's march we had gone over beautiful open stretches of grassy land with only a few stunted trees upon them. Bosquets or tufts of small palms or other trees were to be seen, raised on small mounds, showing how the country was gradually wearing itself down. Nearly each tree was raised on a mound of grey clay. Some fine specimens of Lexia trees, with their peculiarly distorted branches, were to be observed.

Those great scavengers of Brazil, the Urubu, of which two varieties were to be found—the Urubu commun (Cathartes atratus) and the Urubu rei (Cathartes Papa)—a cross between a vulture and a crow, were fairly plentiful now that game was more abundant in the country. They often pierced our ears with their unmusical shrieks. The urubu belonged to the vulture family and was found in all tropical South America. It had black plumage, somewhat shaggy, with reddish legs and feet, and bluish, almost naked, head and neck. Like all rapacious birds of its kind, it lived entirely on dead animals and what refuse it could find about the country. Near farms these birds were generally to be seen in great numbers.

We had a delicious breakfast of fish—really excellent eating—which set everybody in a good humour, and then we proceeded over slight undulations (elev. 1,250 to 1,300 ft.) through forest until we got to the Ponte Alto (High Bridge) River, so called because..., there is no bridge whatever there! The Brazilians are really too delightful in their reasoning; and, mind you, it is not done with a mischievous sense of the ludicrous—indeed no; it is done seriously. The Ponte[155] Alto stream was, like most of the other watercourses of that region, wonderfully limpid.

From that point we were in charming open country, where we could freely breathe the delicious air. Occasionally we saw some angelin trees (the Angelino amargoso and Angelino pedra), technically known as Andira vermifuga M. and Andira spectabilis Sald.

Nearly all the woods we found had a high specific gravity: the two latter, for instance, 0·984 and 1·052 respectively, and a resistance to crushing of kilos 0·684 and kilos. 0·648.

Cacti of great size were numerous. We were now in a region where termite-hills (ant-hills) were to be seen in great numbers. They stood from 2 to 3 ft. above ground, although occasionally some could be seen nearly double that height. Some of the ant-heaps were extraordinary in their architecture, and resembled miniature castles with towers and terraced platforms. Whether they had been built so by the ants or worn down to that shape by the pouring rain and wind, was not so easy to tell.

The more one saw of the termites, the more one disliked them, for they were the most insidious, destructive little brutes of that region. They were ugly in appearance, with their fat white bodies of a dirty greenish-white colour. Nevertheless one could not help having great admiration for those little rascals, which in one night were able to devour the bottom of stout wooden boxes, and in a few hours damaged saddles, clothes, shoes, or any article which happened to be left resting for a little while on the ground. They were even able to make an entire house tumble down in a[156] comparatively short time if the material used in the construction were wood.

Yes, one hated them; yet, when one knew all about them, one had to spend hours watching their doings with a microscope, it was so interesting. They seemed to have two social classes among them—the labouring class and the warriors. To the labourers was given the heavy task of digging underground channels, the surplus earth of which was thrown up with great force through apertures in the soil until the earth so displaced and amassed formed a high heap, riddled in its interior by hundreds of channels and miniature chambers and apartments. To the warriors—really more like a kind of perfect police service—was entrusted the safety of the colony and principally the protection of the young. White ants have many enemies, especially among the larger ants, which carry on regular wars against them; for although ants and termites—commonly called white ants—have many points in common, yet they belong to totally different orders of insects, as can be easily noticed in their structure and development. The peculiar structure of the enlarged heads of the warrior termites was particularly noticeable. Some had a formidable head provided with tentacles and powerful rodent clippers—as well as the peculiar whitish cuirasses in sections of the body. The workers had more normal shapes, the head being better proportioned with the body.

It was enough to split one of the heaps and watch the termites at work to learn a lesson of what devotion and duty mean. In the many passages overcrowded with ants—there was never confusion—you saw hun[157]dreds of them, either conveying food or building materials to the various quarters. Some carried leaves, others carried pieces of wood, seeds, or dead insects. If one was not strong enough to convey its load, others came to its assistance—although they generally seemed to resent the intrusion of others in doing their work. I always noticed that when one was in difficulty and others ran to the rescue there generally ensued what seemed to be a row, and the new arrivals hurriedly left—either disgusted or angry, I could not tell which by their minute expression.

Then there were extraordinarily fat lady ants, lying flat upon their backs, and with many attendants around them doing massage and general nursing with the greatest possible gentleness and care. If one wanted to see a great commotion one only had to introduce into one of the chambers a larger ant of a different kind. What struck me was that the moment the fray was over the termites at once—if perhaps a little more excitedly—resumed their work.

What astonished me more than anything was that they would go on working at all—as if nothing had happened—when I split open one of their dwellings and many of the channels, which must have been normally in the dark—were now exposed to the light. This made me suspect that their vision was either missing altogether or was very defective.

Nature is a wonderful organizer. The majority of termites—including warriors and workers—were sexless; that was perhaps why they were such good workers, as they had nothing to distract them. The males and females whose duty was merely to propagate and[158] improve the race were provided temporarily with wings, so that they could fly away from the colony and disseminate their love among other winged termites of other colonies. The relation between different colonies was friendly. When their task was accomplished and flight was no more necessary for them, they conveniently and voluntarily shed their wings, leaving merely a small section of the wing root attached to the thorax.

The local name for all kinds of termites was cupim, but technically they are known in the Order of Neoroptera as Termes album. Another variety of insect, the Psocus domesticus, was also as destructive as the Termes album.

We frequently met with plants of caju, or acaju or acajueiro (Anacardium Occidentale L.) on our course. They belonged to the Terebinthaceæ group. In a preceding chapter I have already described the red or yellow delicious fruit of this tree. Then we found other interesting trees, such as the oleo, the tall and handsome poinna, and numerous specimens of the small but good-looking palm pindova.

There were not many flowers in that particular spot, barring perhaps an occasional cluster of white flowers, principally bocca de carneiro, said to have properties refreshing for the blood.

Near a small stream I noticed some lovely, slender, tall jeguitiba vermelho trees (Couratari estrellensis Raddi), from 75 to 80 ft. high, with branches and clusters of deep green healthy leaves at the summit only.

There was a little less monotony in the scenery before us that day, for to the west stood, over a long, slightly undulating line, one peculiar conical hill heavily[159] wooded. In pools of stagnant water were lovely water flowers, and in the neighbourhood of that moisture many handsome burity palms were prominent in the landscape.

We had been mounting gently all the time from our last camp. Early in the afternoon we reached that magnificent river, the Araguaya, over 200 yards wide, although something like between 2,500 and 3,000 kil., or perhaps more, from its mouth. Its lovely placid waters, reflecting with the faithfulness of a mirror the vegetation on the high steep banks as well as the clouds in the sky, made an effective picture. The dead silence, disturbed only by the shouts of my men urging the mules to the water-side, was most impressive, the water flowing so slowly that it almost looked stagnant.

Not a mountain, not a hill could be perceived, except one low humble range of hills to the south. It was on those hills that the great Araguaya had its birth.

We crossed the great stream—mules, baggage and all, on three canoes upon which a platform had been erected. Once landed on its western bank, we were, notwithstanding local boundary quarrels, in the immense State of Matto Grosso, the wildest of Brazil.

[160]

I seemed to have no luck on that journey. Everything went wrong all the time. Everything seemed to stand in my way to prevent my progress. My men were demoralized, my mules and horses in a pitiable condition. I called a halt of two or three days in order that we might shoe the animals again and rearrange the pack-saddles. We had, of course, a good supply of new shoes, but the work of shoeing so many animals was hard, especially as I had to do most of it myself with Alcides and Filippe, the other men being absolutely useless. Add to this a stifling temperature of 90° Fahrenheit.

Caraja Indian of the Upper Araguaya River.

To make things worse there came a downpour, such as I have seldom seen, and which lasted for two entire days. That was the dry season too! The house in which we had put up—and through the roof of which we could admire the stars at our ease while in bed—was turned into a regular swimming-tank when the rain came. We had a good deal of trouble to keep our things dry, propping them up on improvised stands of stones which we removed from the crumbling walls of the building. Fortunately, most of my pack-saddle cases were air- and water-tight, so that the contents could not be injured. The wind blew with great fury[161]—at the rate of 460 metres a minute, to be strictly accurate.

There was a humble hamlet at Rio Grande or Porto do Castanho, on the Matto Grosso side, where we had crossed the Araguaya River. It was the gloomiest of gloomy places even in glorious weather. Imagine it on a wet, windy day. The few tiny one-storied cabins—they could hardly be called houses—had got soaked with the storm, and looked miserable. The inhabitants were busy baling water from inside their dwellings. Many tiles of the roofs had been blown away, and those that remained had grown extra dark with the moisture, with merely a bluish tinge from the reflected light of the grey sky upon their shiny surfaces. The solitary palm tree at the end of the oblong square looked pitiful, with its long bladed leaves split and broken by the wind, while the dense foliage along the river banks was now several tones darker and richer than we had seen it before.

Under usual circumstances the plaza—or square—was so high above the river that one could not see the water at all until one went to the edge of the stream, but during flood the river rose as much as 20 ft. and occasionally overflowed the greater portion of the square.

The grass of the square—a mere field—alone seemed happy in the damp. Half dried and anæmic from the hot sun, it seemed to be quickly coming back to life and vigour in those few hours which had rendered us all miserable. My poor horses and mules, worn and sore, stood dripping and wretched, with quivering knees, in the middle of the square—too miserable to feed,[162] only now and then slashing their long wet tails to right or left to drive away impertinent flies.

With the storm the temperature had suddenly descended to 75°, and everybody was shivering with cold after the oppressive heat before the storm.

Upon the half-rotted wooden cross which stood in front of the church was perched a vulture—so thin and shaggy and soaked and motionless that you might easily have mistaken it for a stuffed bird. It was the very picture of misery. But everybody was miserable—one could not help it. I was, too—who am not much given to being depressed.

While marching or camping in the midst of unspoilt nature, I never felt depressed, no matter what happened, and was absolutely regardless of climatic conditions; but in those miserable settlements—feeble attempts at civilization—I must confess that I used to get low-spirited too, and often thought what an idiot I had been to leave my happy homes in Florence and in London, in order to come to these wretched places.

After the attempts at baling out the water had proved futile—as there was more coming in than it was possible to fling out—the people in resignation barricaded their doors and windows. Not a soul was to be seen or heard anywhere. The place was absolutely dead. Even after the storm was over no sign of life could be noticed. The people were all still hiding and trembling in their houses, the comparatively slight but sudden change in the temperature bringing upon most of them attacks of strong malarial fever, which was there prevalent.

At last, splashing her little naked feet along the[163] footpath in the grass—now changed into a streamlet—there approached a little girl with a face as black as coal. She looked terrified as she approached the window out of which I was looking. But she overcame her fright and, prettily stretching out her tiny hand, called out "Boa tarde!" (Good afternoon). Her father and mother were ill; would I give her some medicine for them? Soon after, when the sky had cleared, other patients came along asking for quinine or any medicine I could give them. Others wished to have their teeth pulled out. The Brazilians of the interior had great trouble with their teeth, which were usually in a state of decay.

My own men had wrapped themselves up in their blankets in order to keep warm. They had slept most of the time. They were too cold and lazy even to get up to cook and eat their food. None of the houses possessed a chimney, cooking being done outside; nor, of course, any sanitary arrangements. Those of my men who had toothache cried and moaned the whole night, as might be expected of children aged six of any other country. I have seldom seen men more sensitive and frightened at pain or illness.

The main structure at Porto do Castanho (Port of the Chestnut Tree, because there should be a chestnut tree there) was the church, a mere barn, which elsewhere but in central Brazil would not be considered good enough for storing hay, still less for the worship of the Almighty. Not that it was used much for the latter purpose, as there was no priest within several hundred kilometres. The walls of the church were all scraped and dirty, the corners chipped off by passing[164] animals. All the passers-by went and wiped their dirty hands on the walls of the church—perhaps attracted by the whitewash, which none of the other buildings possessed.

The shops—there were two—had nothing for sale, except some locally grown tobacco. In one shop I found some small iron nails, which were sold at the equivalent of 6d. each!

May 11th. The drenching rain continued the entire night, the minimum temperature being 73° Fahrenheit. My poor animals were in a terrible condition the next morning through the damp, the sores having become badly infected. They were in a purulent condition, and a mass of maggots—the terrible bishus, which were the pest of Brazil. So we had the great job of cleaning them all with a powerful disinfectant as well as washing them with a decoction of warm barbatimão (Stryphnodendron barbatimão M.), a wood with a great resistance to crushing (K. 1·015) and a specific gravity of 1·275. The decoction, which was really very beneficial for wounds and sores of animals, was made with the bark of that tree warmed in water over a fire. Another decoction we frequently used was of salt and carrapicho herb, but this was not quite so effective as the former.

My men killed a magnificent tucano—a large bird with climbing, inquisitive habits. It possessed an enormous yellow bill of singularly light structure, the point of which was black. The lower part of the bill was of a brilliant red, and of a similar red was the rib of the upper part of the bill. The plumage was of a handsome velvety black on the body and tail—quite shiny—while the chest was of a pure white, and the[165] under part of the tail of bright vermilion feathers. White feathers showed at the base of the tail above.

The tucano (Ramphastos) is too well known for me to describe it fully again. It is found all over tropical Brazil. There are many different varieties, such as the Ramphastos vitellinus, Ramphastos ariel, the Ramphastos Cuvieri, the Pteroglossus Beauharnaisii, or curl-crested tucano, etc., extremely common, especially farther north, near the borders of the Amazon.

I was sorry when my men killed this beautiful bird. I had watched it for some time, with its inquisitive habits, hopping from branch to branch, peeping its bill into cavities and examining everything that happened below by bending its head attentively, now on one side then on the other. It evidently took intelligent interest in our doings. My men had gone out to do their cooking. The bird watched them with the greatest attention—with jerky movements not unlike those of a magpie.

The tucanos have, I believe, been described as being stupid; but on the contrary I think they are extremely clever—quite as clever as many parrots or macaws. I observed how shrewd that particular bird was. It would come quite close to us, and examine with really amazing attention what we were doing as long as we were not taking any notice of it, but the moment a man happened to touch a stone or try to point a rifle at it, it would fly a long distance off, with shrill yelps, and would not return until it was quite sure that we were not noticing its presence.

The uses of the enormous bill of the tucano have often been discussed by ornithologists, many of whom[166] believe that the bill is of no use to that bird and Nature made in this case a mistake and has not yet had time to rectify it. Scientists frequently allege that Nature makes mistakes, because many of them have never really understood Nature. How could they? They have never been near enough to Nature unspoiled. Many of them also believe that tucano birds are great fishers, following the notion that many water birds have red or yellow bills of large size. That, too, is another great mistake, for the tucano is eminently a fruit and nut eater, and of course a feeder on worms and insects contained in fruit.

The huge bill, attaining the length of six or seven inches, is toothed at the sides in order to be able to saw the stems of fruit. The shape and size of the bill, far from being a mistake of nature, are made so in order to enable that bird to dig holes into the bark of trees and to enable it to crush and chew the many curiously shaped fruits found in certain parts of the Brazilian forest. Moreover, the bill is also a great protection to the head in going through the dense foliage, where thorns are innumerable and alive with dangerous insects of great size, which can, owing to the length of its beak, be destroyed at a distance from the bird's most vital organs.

These birds have received the name tucano from the noise they make, which resembles "tok-kan" very sharply pronounced and with a snap at the end of each syllable.

The tucanos are good climbers, but not good fliers. In fact, their flight is somewhat clumsy and heavy. They seldom fly long distances. They spend all their[167] time on the higher branches of trees. They are generally to be seen alone or in couples, or perhaps occasionally in flocks of three or four.

What spare moments I had in Castanho—after the storm was over—I spent on the banks of the river looking at the magnificent stream.

Looking south, a low hill range could be seen in the distance with a conical summit rising slightly above the range—the Serra do Cayapo. It was there, as I have said, that the great Araguaya had its birth. It was interesting to note that the head waters of the Araguaya—flowing north, of course—had their birth within an infinitesimal distance of those of two such immense rivers as the Inducassu and the Sucuru, flowing into the Parana, and also near the somewhat unknown Taquary River flowing into the Paraguay.

It would be possible—although perhaps expensive—by means of raised artificial lakes and locks actually to join at least one of these southern great rivers to the great Araguaya, and thus—barring some troublesome rapids—form a continuous waterway from south to north across South America, from Buenos Ayres, roughly in Lat. 34° 5′ south, to Pará in Lat. 1° 27′ 6″ South. Imagine a distance by river extending for 33° 37′ 54″ (or 3,737 kil.) in a straight line—as the crow flies—and not less than double that distance if we include the constant turns and deviations in the various connected rivers.

Easier still and less expensive would be to connect by rail the last two navigable points of those two streams. That will certainly be done some day, when[168] those abandoned regions are eventually populated and properly developed.

There were some rocky falls just below Porto Castanho which prevented navigation as far as the place where we crossed the Araguaya—otherwise the river was navigable from those falls as far as Conceição.

The formation of the clouds over the great Araguaya River was peculiar. Great clusters of globular clouds generally collected in three distinct strata upon a whitish sky as far as high up upon the sky vault.

Facing north, the country appeared absolutely flat, and nothing could be seen above the trees as far as the eye or even a telescope could perceive. In that direction the stream, 200 yards wide, flowed through a perfectly straight channel for about one mile.

The fishing in the river was excellent. One night we caught a lot of fish. One, a huge pirarara weighing 40 lb., then some pirahiba and a pintado, the latter 24 lb. in weight. The pirarara was an extraordinary-looking fish. It had a long head covered entirely with a hard, bony, granular substance, which could only be cracked by a severe blow with an axe. The eyes were prominent and placed quite close to abnormally long antennæ or feelers. The back of the pirarara was bluish black, the centre of the body longitudinally was yellowish, whereas the under part was white. The tail was of a bright vermilion, and the black fins had red edges, which made the huge pirarara a really beautiful fish to look at.

Typical Flat-topped Plateau of Central Brazil.

One Night's Fishing on the Araguaya.

The pirahiba had a grey back with stripes so faint that they were hardly visible. Its head was flat and anchor-shaped. The eyes—very small—were curiously[169] situated on the top of the head instead of at the sides—owing to the fact that the head was really so flat that it had no sides: it was merely a gentle convex curve from one side of the mouth to the other over the skull. The pirahiba too, like most fish of those rivers, possessed long tentacles. Its mouth and fins were slightly tinted red. It displayed powerful teeth similarly arranged to those of the pintado fish previously described.

Then we got some tubarao (or Squalus carcharias)—a small fish with a long, pointed head like a bird's beak, of the plagiostomos order, and several mandĩ—a small yellow fish with enormous eyes. The mandĩ had remarkable vitality. Seven hours after it had been caught—I had no idea the poor thing was still alive—it gave several leaps in the air, and when I put it in a bucket of water it shortly began to swim as if nothing had happened.

There were only two or three very small dug-outs on the Araguaya, none of which were capable of carrying more than one or two people. There was no boat there large enough to carry all my men and baggage, had I even at that moment decided to descend that river instead of proceeding west. I took observations for latitude and longitude at Porto Castanho, as well as boiling-point observations with the hypso-metrical apparatus, the latter in order to get the exact elevation, and also to keep a check on my several aneroids which I used on the journey merely for differential observations.

May 9th, 1910. Boiling point, 210° 3 F. Temperature of the air, 83° F. = 1182 ft. above the sea level. By Aneroid, 1190 ft.

My mules having had a good rest, I was making ready[170] to start on May 12th, when one of my men refused to come any farther. He wished to be paid off and go. So he received his pay and went. He would probably end his existence in that filthy little hamlet. He would never have the energy to return to Goyaz alone. I was rather glad he had gone, as, a few nights previously, he had fired at me while I was asleep. The bullet had actually made a hole through the canvas of my camp bed. I had fortunately taken the precaution to alter the position of my bed—under my tent—a precaution I took every night, after my men had gone to sleep in their hammocks, some distance outside. The man had evidently aimed where he thought my head was resting. I having turned the bed around, the bullet, fired from the man standing, went just over my ankles, perforating the canvas quite close to them. I naturally came out of my tent to see what was the matter, and saw the man with the rifle in his hand.

"Why did you shoot?" I inquired, as the man, evidently surprised to see me standing before him, ejaculated disconnected words.

"I saw a huge onça" (a jaguar) ... "it was there ... I saw its two eyes shining like fire...."

"Did you kill the onça?"

"No, it leapt away."

I advised the man, patting him paternally on the back, not to startle everybody again. If he should see another onça he had better come to me. I seldom missed when I fired at all—as I had been able to show them a few days before. I did not wish my men to behave like so many timid young girls,[171] as I wished to be able to tell people in Europe that Brazilians were brave and noble.

"Firing in such a fashion indiscriminately," I explained to him, "you might have even killed one of your companions! Now go to sleep like a good fellow, and do not fire again!"

I spoke to the rascal in the gentlest of ways, never for one moment letting him suspect that I knew he had intended that bullet to go through my head. Nor did I ever take any of the other men into my confidence. When they asked what the commotion was about, I told them that their companion had fired at a jaguar and the jaguar had leapt away. There is only one effective weapon you can use with scoundrels. It is the greatest calm and kindness.

The man, hiding his face in his hands, threw himself upon his hammock and began to sob. He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until the morning—much to the inconvenience of everybody in camp. At sunrise he had been seized with a severe attack of rheumatism which had contracted a leg badly. It was pitiful to see him walking—but when he was not aware of being looked at he walked as well as anybody else.

From that day that fellow never dared look me straight in the face. He avoided riding near me on the march, and in camp was sulky and unpleasant, retiring to a distance and declining to work. He was relieved of the functions of cook. The last time he had produced a meal nearly brought massacre upon him at the hands of the other men.

He received his full pay up to date, without uttering a word of thanks. He duly signed a receipt with his[172] thumb-mark, as he was unable to write. When the troop of horses and mules and his companions left, he never spoke a word of farewell to his companions or animals, nor to me. He sat silent and motionless, with his eyes riveted to the ground as if in a trance. Some days later we discovered that he had stolen from our store some 40 lbs. of coffee and a large quantity of sugar, as well as a number of other articles which had been useful to us.

The sky when we left was overcast, and huge globular clouds, white and grey, hung in great masses, especially half way up the vault of the sky. The country, after crossing the Araguaya, was remarkably beautiful, from an agricultural point of view—enormous campos or prairies—over rich alluvial deposits, with scanty stunted trees upon them. Plenty of burity palms grew in the lower depressions.

My men suffered intensely from the cold at night—the minimum being 60° Fahr., maximum 92°, in the afternoon of the 13th. The temperature had been much lower since we had crossed the great river. The elevation was only 1,250 ft.

Rising slowly over an undulation in the country to 1,300 ft., we began to find igneous rock showing through the surface soil, especially on the higher points.

Lixia (Nephelium Litchi Carab), caraiba and the laranjeira do campo (Citrus vulgaris), were trees to be seen in that region.

We had wonderfully clear sky in the morning. At noon it became slightly clouded, while in the afternoon one-third of the sky was covered. A light breeze blew from the west.

[173] Some 28 kil. from the Araguaya we came to a small miserable farmhouse. After a great deal of bargaining I was able to purchase some extra horses. The people had no idea whatever of the value of money, and named sums at first which would have easily purchased the finest horses on the English turf. They descended in time to more reasonable figures.

Our life was rendered miserable all day by the millions of pium or gnats that swarmed around us and stung us with incredible fierceness and viciousness. Those little brutes left on our skins black marks fully as large as themselves wherever they stung us. The itching was most trying. Those marks remained for several weeks, and only disappeared when we perforated them with a needle to let the blood out, or waited long enough for them to become desiccated and the skin re-formed.

Pium is a word of the Tupi and Tupinamba Indians' language. Those tiny insects entered your eyes, leaving behind an odoriferous acid which caused great irritation of the lids. We removed dozens every day from our eyes. Fortunately they were easily extracted. They also dashed into your ears, up your nose, and, whenever you opened it, inside your mouth.

It was well worth going to Matto Grosso to enjoy the lovely moonlight nights, only comparable in their luminous splendour to nights of Central Africa in the middle of the Sahara desert, and to those on the high Tibetan plateau in Asia. The light of the moon was so vivid that one could see almost as well as in the daytime.

Personally, the crisp cool air (min. 59° Fahr.) made[174] me feel in most excellent health and spirits, but my men, who had putrid constitutions, were a mass of aches and pains. Some cried like children the entire night with toothache, moaning and shrieking like lunatics when the pain became acute; others got internal aches, another had cramp in the legs. I must say that Alcides, with all his faults, was the only one who always did his work—not always with common sense, but he did it—and, when ill, never gave exhibitions of pitiful weakness like the others.

Filippe, the negro, who eventually showed himself to be the bravest Brazilian on that expedition, also stood the pain more calmly and with manliness. As I had judged from the first moment I had laid eyes upon them, those were really the only two men who were any good at all. "Il bon dì si vede dal mattino" (A fine day is seen in the morning), says an ancient and very true Italian proverb; truer, perhaps, in its philosophy with individuals than with the weather.

Many of my men's complaints vanished with the warmth of the sun—108° Fahr. at 1 p.m., with a maximum temperature during the day of 85° in the shade.

With the beautiful clear sky and a gentle breeze blowing, it was a real delight to march. Only a slight whitish mist—always in horizontal streaks—was to be noticed near the earth. The sky, although limpid, was never of a deep blue, but merely of a pale cobalt. The dew was heavy during the night and soaked everything, making the baggage, the tents particularly, heavy for the animals to carry. We still kept at an elevation of 1,250 ft., noticing, as we marched on, an isolated[175] range of hills extending from north-east to south-west and showing considerable erosion at its south-westerly terminus. Two conical hills—one a broken cone—stood on the summit of a flat plateau, the entire range, as well as the summit of hills, showing eroded slopes with vertical wall-like superior portions.

After leaving the stream at the foot of a range 1,450 ft. above the sea level, on rising over a low pass I could observe to the north-east of that range great blocks of eruptive rock much perforated, in which were embedded pellets of yellow lava and of red and black baked igneous rock. On examining the north-eastern end of the main part of the range it was apparent that what remained standing before us was merely one half of a circular crater, the other half of which had collapsed or had been blown up by volcanic action. The bottom of the crater was subsequently filled with alluvial deposits. There was there a grassy plain with a few burity palms. In the valley before us was ideal pasture land, which will some day be of great value.

We crossed two cols (elev. 1,550 ft.) with a beautiful plain between. Then we descended into a third lovely valley on the north side of the outer wall of the crater. The grazing was perfect for the animals. Clusters of vigorous, healthy burity palms stood in great numbers in the centre and at the sides of the valley. This great valley was bounded by two ridges extending in a northerly direction—two spurs, as it were. The rounded, channelled outer sides of the crater to the north would tend to strengthen the theory that those slopes were formerly a gradual continuation of the present inclined valley. On those slopes of the moun[176]tain hardly any vegetation could be noticed, perhaps owing to the fact that hard volcanic rock existed under the thin surface padding of yellowish earth.

The valley was buried in red and grey lapilli and ashes, finely broken up marble cubes, and fragments of other forms of crystallized rock.

As we proceeded from camp Fogasso, the northern slopes of the crater became divided into huge furrows, the vertical upper part of the crater displaying vividly rich red tones. The crater was castellated at the summit, like the walls of a fortress.

The geological formation of that portion of the Matto Grosso plateau interested me greatly. Each individual spur, taken separately, showed slopes sometimes abrupt, sometimes well rounded, separated from the next spur of hills by a V-shaped or angular, or else a concave hollow. At the bottom of those hollows one did not find the slopes continuing the line of the crater, but the valley was there absolutely flat and cut the line of the slope sharply. It would almost appear as if a subsidence of the soil had taken place in that particular locality, or else one might speculate whether those abrupt hills had not been the walls of what was once a subterranean volcanic cauldron—the flat valley, in which we were, having been the bottom of that cauldron. What little rock one found in the river bed in this valley showed signs of having been exposed to intense and prolonged heat, and so did the brilliant red summit of the hill range, which was also of the deep red typical of hard-baked rock.

The Paredãozinho.