this direction, of the great primeval forest characteristic of this region, which contains so many wonders in its recesses, and clothes the whole surface of the country for two thousand miles from this point to the foot of the Andes.

On the following day and night we sailed, with a light wind, partly aided by the tide, up the Pará river. Toward evening we passed Vigia and Colares, two fishing villages, and saw many native canoes, which seemed like toys beneath the lofty walls of the dark forest. The air was excessively close, the sky overcast, and sheet lightning played almost incessantly around the horizon, an appropriate greeting on the threshold of a country lying close under the equator! The evening was calm, this being the season when the winds are not strong, so we glided along in a noiseless manner, which contrasted pleasantly with the unceasing turmoil to which we had been lately accustomed on the Atlantic. The immensity of the river struck us greatly, for although sailing sometimes at a distance of eight or nine miles from the eastern bank, the opposite shore was at no time visible. Indeed, the Pará river is thirty-six miles in breadth at its mouth; and at the city of Pará, nearly seventy miles from the sea, it is twenty miles wide; but at that point a series of islands commences, which contracts the river view in front of the port. On the morning of the 28th of May we arrived at our destination. The appearance of the city at sunrise was pleasing in the highest degree. It is built on a low tract of land, having only one smail rocky elevation at its southern extremity; it therefore affords no amphitheatral view from the river; but the white buildings roofed with red tiles, the numerous towers and cupolas of churches and convents, the crowds of palm-trees reared above the buildings, all sharply defined against the clear blue sky, give an appearance of lightness and cheerfulness which is most exhilarating. The perpetual forest hems the city in on all sides landward; and toward the suburbs picturesque country houses are seen scattered about, half buried in luxuriant foliage. The port was full of native canoes and other vessels, large and small; and the ringing of bells and firing of rockets, announcing the dawn of some Roman Catholic festival day, showed that the population was astir at that early hour.

The impressions received during our first Walk, on the evening of the day of our arrival, cau never wholly fade from my mind. After traversing the few streets of tall, gloomy, convent-looking buildings near the port, inhabited chiefly by merchants and shopkeepers; along which idle soldiers, dressed in shabby uniforms, carrying their muskets carelessly over their arms, priests, negresses with red water-jars on their heads, sad-looking In lian women carrying their naked children astride on their hips, and other sampies of the motley life of the place, were seen; we passed down a long narrow

street leading to the suburbs. Beyond this, our road lay across a grassy common into a picturesque lane leading to the virgin forest. The long street was inhabited by the poorer class of the population. The houses were of ore story only, and had an irregular anl mean appearance. The windows were without glass, having, instead, projecting lattice casements. The street was unpaved, and inches deep in loose sand. Groups of people were cooling themselves outside their doors

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people of all shades in color of skin, European, negro and Indian, but chiefly an uncertain mixture of the three. Among them were several handsome women, dressed in a slovenly mauner, barefoot or shod in loose slippers; but wearing richly decorated earrings, and around their necks strings of very large gold beads. They had dark expressive eyes, and remarkably rich heads of hair. It was a mere fancy, but I thought the mingled squalor, luxuriance, and beauty of these women were pointedly in harmony with the rest of the scene; so striking, in the view, was the mixture of natural riches and human poverty. The houses were mostly in a dilapidated condition, and signs of indolence and neglect were every where visible. The wooden palings which surrounded the weed-grown gardens were strewn about, broken; and hogs, goals, an ill-fed poultry wandered in and out through the gaps. But amid all, and compensating every defect, rose the overpowering beauty of the vegetation. massive dark crowns of shady mangoes were seen everywhere among the dwellings, amid fragrant blossoming orange, lemon, and many other tropical fruit-trees; flower, others in fruit, at varying stages of ripeness. Here and there, shooting above the more dome-like and sombre trees, were the smooth columnar stems of palms, bearing aloft their magnificent crowns of finely cut fronds. Among the latter the slim assaipalm was especially noticeable, growing in groups of four and five; its smooth, gentlycurving stem, twenty to thirty feet high, terminating in a head of feathery foliage, inexpressibly light and elegant in outline. On the boughs of the taller and more ordinarylooking trees sat tufts of curiously-leaved parasites. Slender woody lianas hung in festoons from the branches, or were suspended in the form of cords and ribbons ; while luxuriant creeping plants overran alike tree-trunks, roofs and walls, or toppled over palings in copious profusion of foliage. superb banana (Musa paradisiaca), of which I had always read as forming one of the charms of tropical vegetation, here grew with great luxuriance. its glossy velvety-green leaves, twelve feet in length, curving over the roofs of verandas in the rear of every house. The shape of the leaves, the varying shades of green which they present when lightly moved by the wind, and especially the contrast they afford in color and form to the more sombre hues and more rouuded outline of the other trees, are quite sufficient to ac

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unt for the charm of this glorious tree.

Strange forms of vegetation drew our attention at almost every step. Among them were the different kinds of Bromelia, or pine-apple plants, with their long, rigid, sword-shaped leaves, in some species jagged or toothed along their edges. Then there was the bread-fruit-tree-an importation, it is true; but remarkable for its large, glossy, darkgreen, strongly digitated foliage, and its interesting history. Many other trees and plants, curious in leaf, stem, or manner of growth, grew on the borders of the thickets along which lay our road; they were all attractive to new-comers, whose last country ramble, of quite recent date, was over the bleak moors of Derbyshire on a sleety morning in April.

As we continued our walk the brief twilight commenced, and the sounds of multifarious life came from the vegetation around. The whirring of cicadas; the shrill stridulation of a vast number and variety of field crickets and grasshoppers, each species sounding its peculiar note; the plaintive hooting of tree frogs-all blended together in one continuous ringing sound-the audible expression of the teeming profusion of nature. As night came on, many species of frogs and toads in the marshy places joined in the chorus; their croaking and drumming, far louder than anything I had before heard in the same line, being added to the other noises, created an almost deafening din. This uproar of life, I afterward found, never wholly ceased, night or day in course of time I became, like other residents, accustomed to it. It is, however, one of the peculiarities of a tropicalat least a Brazilian-climate which is most likely to surprise a stranger. After my return to England, the death-like stillness of summer days in the country appeared to me as strange as the ringing uproar did on my first arrival at Pará. The object of our visit being accomplished, we returned to the city. The fire-flies were then out in great numbers, flitting about the sombre woods, and even the frequented streets. We turned into our hammocks, well pleased with what we had seen, and full of anticipation with regard to the wealth of natural objects we had come to explore.

try extends close up to the city streets; indeed, the town is built on a tract of cleared land, and is kept free from the jungle only by the constant care of the Government. The surface, though everywhere low, is slightly undulating, so that areas of dry land alternate throughout with areas of swampy ground, the vegetation and animal tenants of the two being widely different. Our resi dence lay on the side of the city nearest the Guamá, on the borders of one of the low and swampy areas which here extends over a portion of the suburbs. The tract of land is intersected by well macadamized suburban roads, the chief of which, Estrada das Mongubeiras (the Monguba road), about a mile long, is a magnificent avenue of silk-cottontrees (Bombax monguba and B. ceiba), huge trees whose trucks taper rapidly from the ground upward, and whose flowers before opening look like red balls studding the branches. This fine road was constructed under the governorship of the Count dos Arcos, about the year 1812. At right angles. to it run a number of narrow green lanes, and the whole district is drained by a system of small canals or trenches through which the tide ebbs and flows, showing the lowness of the site. Before I left the country, other enterprising presidents had formed a number of avenues lined with cucca-nut palms, almond and other trees, in continuation of the Moguba road, over the more elevated and drier ground to the north-east of the city. On the high ground the vegetation has an as pect quite different from that which it presents in the swampy parts. Indeed, with the exception of the palm-trees, the suburbs here have an aspect like that of a village green at home. The soil is sandy, and the open commons are covered with a short grassy and shrubby vegetation. Beyond this, the land again descends to a marshy tract, where, at the bottom of the moist hollows, the public wells are situated. Here all the linen of the city is washed by hosts of noisy negresses, and here also the water-carts are filledpainted hogsheads on wheels, drawn by bullocks. In early morning, when the sun sometimes shines through a light mist, and everything is dripping with moisture, this part of the city is full of life: vociferous negroes and wrangling Gallegos, the proprietors of the water-carts, are gathered about, jabbering continually, and taking their morning drams in dirty wine-shops at the street corners.

The majority of the birds we saw were smail and obscurely colored; they were indeed similar, in general appearance, to such as are met with in country places in England. Occasionally a flock of small paroquets, green, with a patch of yellow on the forehead, would come at early morning to the trees near the Estrada. They would feed quietly, sometimes chattering in subdued tones, but setting up a harsh scream, and flying off, on being disturbed. Humming-birds we did not see at this time, although I afterward. found them by hundreds when certain trees were in flower. Vultures we only saw at a distance, sweeping round at a great height, over the public slaughter-houses. Several fly-catchers, finches, ant-thrushes, a tribe of plainly-colored birds, intermediate in structure between fly-catchers and thrushes, some of which startle the new-comer by their extraordinary notes emitted from their places of concealment in the dense thickets; and also tanagers, and other small birds, inhabited the neighborhood. None of these had a pleasing song, except a little brown wren (Troglodytes furvus), whose voice and melody resemble those of our English robin. It is often seen, hopping and climbing about the walls and roofs of houses and on trees in their vicinity. Its song is more frequently heard in the rainy season, when the mongubatrees shed their leaves. At those times the Estrada das Mongubeiras has an appearance quite unusual in a tropical country. The tree is one of the few in the Amazons region which sheds all its foliage before any of the new leaf-buds expand. The naked branches, the sodden ground matted with dead leaves, the gray mist veiling the surrounding vege tation, and the cool atmosphere soon after sunrise, all combine to remind one of autumnal mornings in England. While loitering about at such times in a half-oblivious mood, thinking of home, the song of this bird would create for the moment a perfect illusion. Numbers of tanagers frequented the fruit and other trees in our garden. The two principal kinds which attracted our attention were the Rhamphocoelus jacapa and the Tanagra episcopus. The females of both are dull in color, but the male of Jacapa has a beautiful velvety purple and black plumage, the beak being partly white, while the same sex in Episcopus is of a pale blue color, with white spots on the wings. In their habits they both resemble the common house sparrow of Europe, which does not exist in South America, its place being in some measure filled by these familiar tanagers. They are just as lively, restless, bold, and wary; their notes are very similar, chirping and inharmonious, and they seem to be almost as foud of the neighborhood of man. They do not, however, build their nests on houses.

Another interesting and common bird was the Japím, a species of Cassicus (C. icteronotus). It belongs to the same family of birds as our starling, magpie, and rook, and has a rich yellow and black plumage, remarkably

compact and velvety in texture. The shape of its head and its physiognomy are very similar to those of the magpie; it has light gray eyes, which give it the same knowing expression. It is social in its habits, and builds its nest, like the English rook, on trees in the neighborhood of habitations. But the nests are quite differently constructed, being shaped like purses, two feet in length, and suspended from the slender branches all round the tree, some of them very near the ground. The entrance is on the side near the bottom of the nest. The bird is a great favorite with the Brazilians of Pará: it is a noisy, stirring, babbling creature, passing constantly to and fro, chattering to its comrades, and is very ready at imitating other birds, especially the domestic poultry of the vicinity. There was at one time a weekly newspaper published at Pará, called The Japim; the name being chosen, I suppose, on account of the babbling propensities of the bird. Its eggs are nearly round, and of a bluish-white color, speckled with brown.

Of other vertebrate animals we saw very little, except of the lizards. They are sure to attract the attention of the new-comer from Northern Europe, by reason of their strange appearance, great numbers and variety. The species which are seen crawling over the walls of buildings in the city are different from those found in the forest or in the interior of houses. They are unpleasantlooking animals, with colors assimilated to those of the dilapidated stone and mud walls on which they are seen. The house lizards belong to a peculiar family, the Geckos, and are found even in the best-kept chambers, most frequently on the walls and ceilings, to which they cling motionless by day, being active only at night. They are of speckled gray or ashy colors. The structure of their feet is beautifully adapted for clinging to and running over smooth surfaces; the under side of their toes being expanded into cushions, beneath which folds of skin form a series of flexible plates. By means of this apparatus they can walk or run across a smooth ceiling with their backs downward; the plated soles, by quick muscular action, exhausting and admitting air alternately. The Geckos are very repulsive in appearance. The Brazilians give them the name of Osgas, and firmly believe them to be poisonous; they are, however, harmless creatures. Those found in houses are small; but I have seen others of great size, in crevices of tree trunks in the forests. Sometimes Geckos are found with forked tails; this results from the budding of a rudimentary tail at the side, from an injury done to the member. A slight rap will cause their tails to snap off, the loss being afterward partially repaired by a new growth. The tails of lizards seem to be almost useless appendages to the animals. I used often to amuse myself in the suburbs, while resting in the verandah of our house during the heat of midday, by watching the variegated green, brown, and yellow groundlizard. They would come nimbly forward.

shown satisfactorily to what use it applies the leaves. I discovered this only after much time spent in investigation. The leaves are used to thatch the domes which cover the entrances to their subterranean dwellings, thereby protecting from the deluging raius the young broods in the nests beneath. The Caiger mounds, already described, are so extensive that few persons would attempt to remove them for the purpose of examining their interior; but smaller hillocks, covering other entrances to the same system of tunnels and chambers, may be found in sheltered places, and these are always thatched with leaves, mingled with granules of earth. The heavily laden workers, each carrying its segment of leaf vertically, the lower edge se cured in its mandibles, troop up and cast their burdens on the hillock; another relay of laborers place the leaves in position, cov ering them with a layer of earthy granules, which are brought one by one from the soil beneath.

The underground abodes of this wonderful ant are known to be very extensive. The Rev. Hamlet Clark has related that the Sauba of Rio de Janeiro, a species closely allied to ours, has excavated a tunnel under the bed of the river Parahyba, at a place where it is as broad as the Thames at London Bridge. At the Magoary rice mills, uear Pará, these ants once pierced the embankment of a large reservoir the great body of water which it contained escaped before the damage could be repaired. In the Botanic Gardens, at Pará, an enterprising French gardener tried all he could think of to extirpate the Saüba. With this object he made fires over some of the main entrances to their colonies, and blew the fumes of sulphur down the galleries by means of bellows. I saw the smoke issue from a great number of outlets, one of which was seventy yards distant from the place where the bellows were used. This shows how extensively the underground galleries are ramified.

Besides injuring and destroying young trees by despoiling them of their foliage, the Saüba ant is troublesome to the inhabitants from its habit of plundering the stores of provisions in houses at night, for it is even more active by night than in the day-time. At first I was inclined to discredit the stories of their entering habitations and carrying off grain by grain the farinha or mandioca meal, the bread of the poorer classes of Brazil. At length, while residing at an Indian village on the Tapajos, I had ample proof of the fact. One night my servant woke me three or four, hours before sunrise by calling out that the rats were robbing the farinha baskets; the article at that time being scarce and dear. I got up, listened, and found the noise was very unlike that made by rats. So I took the light and went into the storeroom, which was close to my sleeping-place. I there found a broad column of Saüba ants, consist ing of thousands of individuals, as busy as possible, passing to and fro between the doos

and my precious baskets. Most of those passing outward were laden each with a grain: of farinha, which was, in some cases, larger and many times heavier than the bodies of the carriers. Farinha consists of grains of similar size and appearance to the tapioca of our shops; both are products of the same root, tapioca being the pure starch, and farinha the starch mixed with woody fibre, the latter ingredient giving it a yellowish. color. It was amusing to see some of the dwarfs, the smallest members of their family, staggering along, completely hidden under their load. The baskets, which were on a high table, were entirely covered with ants, many hundreds of whom were employed in snipping the dry leaves which served as lining. This produce the rustling sound which. had at first disturbed us. My servant told me that they would carry off the whole contents of the two baskets (about two bushels) in the course of the night, if they were not driven off; so we tried to exterminate them by killing them with our wooden clogs. It was impossible, however, to prevent fresh hosts coming in as fast as we killed their companions. They returned the next night; and I was then obliged to lay trains of gunpowder along their line, and blow them up. This, repeated many times, at last seemed to: intimidate them, for we were free from their visits during the remainder of my residenceat the place. What they did with the hard dry grains of mandioca I was never able to ascertain, and cannot even conjecture. The meal contains no gluten, and therefore would be useless as cement. It contains only & small relative portion of starch, and, when mixed with water, it separates and falls away like so much earthy matter. It may serve as food for the subterranean workers. But the young or larvæ of ants are usually fed by juices secreted by the worker nurses.

Ants, it is scarcely necessary to observe, consist, in each species, of three sets of individuals, or, as some express it, of three sexes -namely, males, females, and workers; the last-mentioned being undeveloped females. The perfect sexes are winged on their first. attaining the adult state; they alone propagate their kind, flying away, previous to the act of reproduction, from the nest in which they have been reared. This winged state of the perfect ma'es and females, and the habit of flying abroad before pairing, are very important points in the economy of ants; for they are thus enabled to intercross with members of distant colonies which swarm at the same time, and thereby increase the vigor of the race, a proceeding essential to the pros perity of any species. In many ants, espe cially those of tropical climates, the workers, again, are of two classes, whose structure and functions are widely different. In some species they are wonderfully unlike each other, and constitute two well-defined forms. of workers. In others, there is a gradation f individuals between the two extremes.

The curious differences in structure and