the lamplighter, on his rounds to extinguish the lamps, knocked me up to show me a boa-constrictor he had just killed in the Rua St. Antonio, not far from my door. He had cut it nearly in two with a large knife, as it was making its way down the sandy street. Sometimes the native hunters capture boaconstrictors alive in the forest near the city. We bought one which had been taken in this way, and kept it for some time in a large box under our veranda. This is not, however, the largest or most formidable serpent found in the Amazons region. It is far inferior, in these respects, to the hideous Sucurujú, or Water Boa (Eunectes marinus), which sometimes attacks man; but of this I shall have to give an account in a subsequent chapter.

It frequently happened, in passing through the thickets, that a snake would fall from the boughs close to me. Once I got for a few moments completely entangled in the felds of one, a wonderfully slender kind, being nearly six feet in length, and not more than half an inch in diameter at its broadest part. It was a species of Dryophis. The majority of the snakes seen were innocuous. One day, however, I trod on the tail of a young serpent belonging to a very poisonous kind, the Jararaca (Craspedoecphalus atrox). It turned round and bit my trousers; and a young Indian lad, who was behind me, dexterously cut it through with his knife before it had time to free itself. In some seasons snakes are very abundant, and it often struck me as strange that accidents did not occur more frequently than was the case.

Among the most curious snakes found here were the Amphisbænæ, a genus allied to the slow worm of Europe. Several species occur at Pará. Those brought to we were generally not much more than a foot in length. They are of cylindrical shape, having, properly speaking, no neck; and the blunt tail, which is only about an inch in length, is of the same shape as the head. This peculiar form, added to their habit of wriggling backward as well as forward, has given rise to the fable that they have two heads, one at each extremity. They are extremely sluggish in their motions, and are clothed with scales that have the form of small imbedded plates arranged in rings round the body. The eye is so small as to be scarcely perceptible. They live habitually in the subterranean chambers of the Sauba ant; only coming out of their abodes occasionally in the night time. The natives call the Amphisbæna the "Mai das Saübas," or Mother of the Saübas, and believe it to be poisonous, although it is perfectly harmless. It is one of the many curious animals which have become the subject of mythical stories with the natives. They say the ants treat it with great affection, and that if the snake be taken away from a nest, the Saubas will forsake the spot. I once took one quite whole out of the body of a young Jararaca, the poisonous species already alluded to, whose body was so distended with its contents that the skin was stretched out to a film over the contained Amphisbæna. I

was, unfortunately, not able to ascertain the exact relation which subsists between these curious snakes and the Saüba ants. I believe, however, they feed upon the Saübas, for I once found remains of ants in the stomach of one of them. Their motions are quite peculiar; the unlilatable jaws, small eyes, and curious plated integument also distinguish them from other snakes. These properties have evidently some relation to their residence in the subterranean abodes cf ants. It is now well ascertained by naturalists, that some of the most anomalous forms among coleopterous insects are those which live solely in the nests of ants, and it is curious that an abnormal form of snakes should also be found in the society of these insects.

The neighborhood of Pará is rich in insects. I do not speak of the number of individuals, which is probably less than one meets with, excepting ants and Termites, in summer days in temperate latitudes; but the variety, or in other words, the number of species, is very great. It will convey some idea of the diversity of butterflies when I mention that about 700 species of that tribe are found within an hour's walk of the town; while the total number found in the British Islands does not exceed 66, and the whole of Europe supports only 321. Some of the most showy species, such as the swallow-tailed kinds, Papilio Polycaon, Thoas, Torquatus, and others, are seen flying about the streets and gardens; sometimes they come through the open windows, attracted by flowers in the apartments. Those species of Papilio which are most characteristic of the country, so conspicuous in their velvetyblack, green, and rose-colored hues, which Linnæus, in pursuance of his elegant system of nomenclature-naming the different kinds after the heroes of Greek mythology-called Trojans, never leave the shades of the forest. The splendid metallic blue Morphos, some of which measure seven inches in expanse, are generally confined to the shady valley of the forest. They sometimes come forth into the broad sunlight. When we first went to look at our new residence in Nazareth, a Morpho Menelaus, one of the most beautiful kinds, was seen flapping its huge winds like a bird along the veranda. This species, however, although much admired, looks dull in coler by the side of its congener, the Morpho Rhotenor, whose wings, on the upper face, are of quite a dazzling lustre. Rhetenor usually prefers the broad sunny roads in the forest, and is an almost unattainable prize, on account of its lofty flight; for it very rarely descends ncarer the ground than about twenty feet. When it comes sailing along, it occasionally haps its wings, and then the blue surface flashes in the sunlight, so that it is visible a quarter of a mile off. There is another species of this genus, of a satinywhite hue, the Morpho Uraneis; this is equally difficult to obtain; the male only has the satiny lustre, the female being of a palelavender color. It is in the height of the dry season that the greatest number and variety

age. Being a native of a district near the capital, Alexandro was a civilized Tapuyo, a citizen as free as his white neighbors. He spoke only Portuguese. He was a sparebuilt man, rather under the middle height, with fine regular features, and, what was unusual in Indians, the upper lip decorated with a mustache. Three years afterward I saw him at Pará in the uniform of the National Guard, and he called on me often to talk about old times. I esteemed him as a quiet, sensible, manly young fellow.

We set sail in the evening, after waiting several hours in vain for one of our crew. It was soon dark, the wind blew stiffly, and the tide rushed along with great rapidity, carrying us swiftly past the crowd of vessels which were anchored in the port. The canoe rolled a good deal. After we had made five or six miles of way the tide turned, and we were obliged to cast anchor. long after, we laid ourselves down all three together on the mat, which was spread over the floor of our cabin, and soon fell asleep.

Not

On awaking at sunrise the next morning, we found ourselves gliding upward with the tide, along the Bahia or Bay, as it is called, of Goajará. This is a broad channel lying between the mainland and a line of islands which extend some distance beyond the city. Into it three large rivers discharge their waters, namely, the Guamá, the Acará, and the Mojú; so that it forms a kind of sub estuary within the grand estuary of Pará. It is nearly four miles broad. The left bunk, along which we were now sailing, was beautiful in the extreme; not an inch of soil was to be seen; the water frontage presented a compact wall of rich and varied forest, resting on the surface of the stream. It seemed to form a finished border to the water scene, where the dome-like, rounded shapes of exogenous trees which constituted the mass formed the groundwork, and the endless diversity of broad-leaved Heliconia and Palms -each kind differing in stem, crown, and fronds-the rich embroidery. The morning was calm and cloudless; and the slanting beams of the early sun, striking full on the front of the forest, lighted up the whole most gloriously. The only sound of life which reached us was the call of the Serracúra (Gallinula Cayennensis), a kind of wild fowl; all else was so still that the voices of boatmen could be plainly heard, from canoes passing a mile or two distant from us. The sun soon gains great power on the water, but with it the sea-breeze increases in strength, moderating the heat which would otherwise be almost in supportable. We reached the end of the Goajará about midday, and then entered the narrower channel of the Mojú. Up this we travelled, partly rowing and partly sailing, between the same unbroken walls of forest, until the morning of the 28th.

August 29th. The Mojú, a stream little inferior to the Thames in size, is connected about twenty miles from its mouth, by means of a short artificial canal, with a small stream, the Igarapé-mirim, which flows the

opposite way into the water system of the Tocantins. Small vessels like ours take this route in preference to the stormy passage by way of the main river, although the distance is considerably greater. We passed through the canal yesterday, and to-day have been threading our way through a labyrinth of narrow chaunels, their banks all clothed with the same magnificent forest, but agreeably varied by houses of planters and settlers. We passed many quite large establishments, besides one pretty little village called Santa Anna. All these channels are washed through by the tides the ebb, contrary to what takes place in the short canal, setting toward the Tocantins. The water is almost tepid (77°_Fahr.), and the rank vegetation all around seems reeking with moisture. The country, however, as we were told, is perfectly healthy. Some of the houses are built on wooden piles driven into the mud of the swamp.

In the afternoon we reached the end of the last channel, called the Murutipucú, which runs for several miles between two unbroken lines of fan-leaved palms, forming with their straight stems colossal palisades. On rounding a point of land we came in full view of the Tocantins. The event was announced by one of our Indians, who was on the lookout at the prow, shouting, "La está o Paranáuassú!" "Behold the great river!" It was a grand sight-a broad expanse of dark waters dancing merrily to the breeze; the opposite shore, a narrow blue line, miles away.

We went ashore on an island covered with palm-trees, to make a fire and boil our kettle for tea. I wandered a short way inland, and was astounded at the prospect. The land lay below the upper level of the daily tides, so that there was no underwood, and the ground was bare. The trees were almost all of one species of Palm, the gigantic fanleaved Mauritia flexuosa; on the borders only was there a small number of a second kind, the equally remarkable Ubussú palm (Manicaria saccifera). The Ubussú has erect, uncut leaves, twenty-five feet long, and six feet wide, all arranged round the top of a four-feet high stem, so as to form a figure like that of a colossal shuttlecock. The fanleaved palms, which clothed nearly the entire: islet, had huge cylindrical smooth stems, three feet in diameter, and about a hundred. feet high. The crowns were formed of enormous clusters of fan-shaped leaves, the stalks. alone of which measured seven to ten feet in length. Nothing in the vegetable world. could be more imposing than this grove of palms. There was no underwood to obstruct. the view of the long perspective of towering columns. The crowns, which were densely packed together at an immense height overhead, shut out the rays of the sun; and the gloomy solitude beneath, through which the sound of our voices seemed to reverberate,. could be compared to nothing so well as a solemn temple. The fruits of the two palms were scattered over the ground; those of the Ubussú adhere together by twos and threes..

and have rough, brown-colored shell; the fruit of the Mauritia, on the contrary, is of a bright red hue, and the skin is impressed with deep crossing lines, which give is a resemblance to a quilted cricket-ball.

About midnight, the tide being favorable and the breeze strong, we crossed the river, taking it in a slanting direction, a distance of sixteen miles, and arrived at eight o'clock the following morning at Cametá. This is a town of some importance pleasantly situated on the somewhat high terra firma of the left bank of the Tocantins. I will defer giving an account of the place till the end of this narrative of our Tocantins voyage. We lost here another of our men, who got drinking with some old companions ashore, and were obliged to start on the difficult journey up the river with two hands only, and they in a very dissatisfied humor with the prospect. The river view from Cametá is magnificent. The town is situated, as already mentioned, on a high bank, which forms quite a considerable elevation for this flat country, and the broad expanse of dark-green waters is studded with low, palm-clad islands; the prospect down river, however, being clear, or bounded only by a sea-like horizon of water and sky. The shores are washed by the breeze-tossed waters into little bays and creeks, fringed with sandy beaches. The Tocantins has been likened, by Prince Adalbert of Prussia, who crossed its mouth in 1846, to the Ganges. It is upward of ten miles in breadth at its mouth; opposite Cametá it is five miles broad. Mr. Burchell, the well-known English traveller, descended the river from the mining provinces of in terior Brazil some years before our visit. Unfortunately, the utility of this fine stream is impaired by the numerous obstructions to its navigation in the shape of cataracts and rapids, which commence, in ascending, at about 120 miles above Cametá, as will be seen in the sequel.

August 30th.-Arrived, in company with Senhor Laroque, an intelligent Portuguese merchant, at Vista Alegre, fifteen miles above Cametá. This was the residence of Senhor Antonio Ferreira Gomez, and was a fair sample of a Brazilian planter's establishment in this part of the country. The buildings covered a wide space, the dwelling house being separated from the place of business, and as both were built on low, flooded ground, the communication between the two was by means of a long wooden bridge. From the office and visitors' apartments a wooden pier extended into the river. The whole was raised on piles above high-water mark. There was a rude mill for grinding sugarcane, worked by bullocks; but cashaça, or rum, was the only article manufactured from the juice. Behind the buildings was a small piece of ground cleared from the forest, and planted with fruit-trees, orange, lemon, genpapa, goyava, and others; and beyond this, a broad path through a neglected plantation of coffee and cacao, led to several large sheds, where the farinha or mandioca meal was

manufactured. The plantations of mandioca are always scattered about in the forest, some of them being on islands in the middle of the river. Land being plentiful, and the plough, as well as, indeed, nearly all other agricultural implements, unknown, the same ground is not planted three years together; but a new piece of forest is cleared every alternate year, and the old clearing suffered to relapse into jungle.

We stayed here two days, sleeping ashore in the apartment devoted to strangers. As usual in Brazilian houses of the middle class, we were not introduced to the female members of the family, and, indeed, saw nothing of ther except at a distance. In the forest and thickets about the place we were tolerably successful in collecting, finding a number of birds and insects which do not occur at Pará. I saw here, for the first time, the blus Chatterer (Ampelis cotinga). It was on the topmost bough of a very lofty tree, and completely out of the reach of an ordinary fowling-piece. The beautiful lightblue color of its plumage was plainly discer ible at that distance. It is a dull, quiet bird. A much commoner species was the Cigana or Gypsy (Opisthocomus cristatus), a bird belonging to the same order (Gallinacea) as our domestic fowl. It is about the size of a pheasant; the plumage is dark brown, varied with reddish, and the head is adorned with a crest of long feathers. It is a remarkable bird in many respects. The hind toe is not placed high above the level of the other toes, as it is in the fowl order generally, but lies on the same plane with them; the shape of the foot becomes thus suited to the purely arboreal habits of the bird, enabling it to grasp firmly the branches of trees. This is a distinguishing character of all the birds in equinoctial America which represent the fowl and pheasant tribes of the old world, and affords another proof of the adaptation of the Fauna to a forest region. The Cigana lives in considerable flocks on the lower trees and bushes bordering the streams and lagoons, and feeds on various wild fruits, especially the sour Goyava (Psidium sp.). The natives say it devours the fruit of arborescent Arums (Caladium arborescens), which grow in crowded masses around the swampy banks of lagoons. Its voice is a harsh, grating hiss; it makes the noise when alarmed, all the individuals sibilating as they fly heavily away from tree to tree, when disturbed by passing canoes. It is polygamous, like other members of the same order. It is never, however, by any chance, seen on the ground, and is nowhere domesticated. The flesh has an unpleasant odor of musk combined with wet hides-a smell called by the Brazilians catinga; it is, therefore, uneatable. If it be as unpalatable to carnivorous animals as it s to man, the immunity from persecution which it would thereby enjoy would account for its existing in such great numbers throughout the country.

We lost here another of our crew; and thus, a. the commencement of our voyage.