The Naturalist on the River Amazons [43]
use, but this forms a universal article of diet in all parts of the country. The fruit, which is perfectly round, and about the size of a cherry, contains but a small portion of pulp lying between the skin and the hard kernel. This is made, with the addition of water, into a thick, violet-coloured beverage, which stains the lips like blackberries. The fruit of the Miriti is also a common article of food, although the pulp is sour and unpalatable, at least to European tastes. It is boiled, and then eaten with farinha. The Tucuma (Astrocaryum tucuma), and the Mucuja (Acrocomia lasiospatha), grow only on the mainland. Their fruits yield a yellowish, fibrous pulp, which the natives eat in the same way as the Miriti. They contain so much fatty matter, that vultures and dogs devour them greedily.
Early on the morning of September 3rd we reached the right or eastern bank, which is forty to sixty feet high at this point. The houses were more substantially built than those we had hitherto seen. We succeeded in buying a small turtle; most of the inhabitants had a few of these animals, which they kept in little enclosures made with stakes. The people were of the same class everywhere, Mamelucos. They were very civil; we were not able, however, to purchase much fresh food from them. I think this was owing to their really not having more than was absolutely required to satisfy their own needs. In these districts, where the people depend solely on fishing for animal food, there is a period of the year when they suffer hunger, so that they are disposed to highly prize a small stock when they have it. They generally answered in the negative when we asked, money in hand, whether they had fowls, turtles, or eggs to sell. "Nao ha, sinto que nao posso lhe ser bom"; or, "Nao ha, men coracao-- we have none; I am sorry I cannot oblige you"; or, "There is none, my heart."
Sept. 3rd to 7th.--At half-past eight a.m. we arrived at Baiao, which is built on a very high bank, and contains about 400 inhabitants. We had to climb to the village up a ladder, which is fixed against the bank, and, on arriving at the top, took possession of a room, which Senhor Seixas had given orders to be prepared for us. He himself was away at his sitio, and would not be here until the next day. We were now quite dependent upon him for men to enable us to continue our voyage, and so had no remedy but to wait his leisure. The situation of the place, and the nature of the woods around it, promised well for novelties in birds and insects; so we had no reason to be vexed at the delay, but brought our apparatus and store-boxes up from the canoe, and set to work.
The easy, lounging life of the people amused us very much. I afterwards had plenty of time to become used to tropical village life. There is a free, familiar, pro-bono publico style of living in these small places, which requires some time for a European to fall into. No sooner were we established in our rooms, than a number of lazy young fellows came to look on and make remarks, and we had to answer all sorts of questions. The houses have their doors and windows open to the street, and people walk in and out as they please; there is always, however, a more secluded apartment, where the female members of the families reside. In their familiarity there is nothing intentionally offensive, and it is practised simply in the desire to be civil and sociable. A young Mameluco, named Soares, an Escrivao, or public clerk, took me into his house to show me his library. I was rather surprised to see a number of well-thumbed Latin classics: Virgil, Terence, Cicero's Epistles, and Livy. I was not familiar enough, at this early period of my residence in the country, with Portuguese to converse freely with Senhor Scares, or ascertain what use he made of these books; it was an unexpected sight, a classical library in a mud-plastered and palm-thatched hut on the banks of the Tocantins.
The prospect from the village was magnificent, over the green wooded islands, far away to the grey line of forest on the opposite shore of
Early on the morning of September 3rd we reached the right or eastern bank, which is forty to sixty feet high at this point. The houses were more substantially built than those we had hitherto seen. We succeeded in buying a small turtle; most of the inhabitants had a few of these animals, which they kept in little enclosures made with stakes. The people were of the same class everywhere, Mamelucos. They were very civil; we were not able, however, to purchase much fresh food from them. I think this was owing to their really not having more than was absolutely required to satisfy their own needs. In these districts, where the people depend solely on fishing for animal food, there is a period of the year when they suffer hunger, so that they are disposed to highly prize a small stock when they have it. They generally answered in the negative when we asked, money in hand, whether they had fowls, turtles, or eggs to sell. "Nao ha, sinto que nao posso lhe ser bom"; or, "Nao ha, men coracao-- we have none; I am sorry I cannot oblige you"; or, "There is none, my heart."
Sept. 3rd to 7th.--At half-past eight a.m. we arrived at Baiao, which is built on a very high bank, and contains about 400 inhabitants. We had to climb to the village up a ladder, which is fixed against the bank, and, on arriving at the top, took possession of a room, which Senhor Seixas had given orders to be prepared for us. He himself was away at his sitio, and would not be here until the next day. We were now quite dependent upon him for men to enable us to continue our voyage, and so had no remedy but to wait his leisure. The situation of the place, and the nature of the woods around it, promised well for novelties in birds and insects; so we had no reason to be vexed at the delay, but brought our apparatus and store-boxes up from the canoe, and set to work.
The easy, lounging life of the people amused us very much. I afterwards had plenty of time to become used to tropical village life. There is a free, familiar, pro-bono publico style of living in these small places, which requires some time for a European to fall into. No sooner were we established in our rooms, than a number of lazy young fellows came to look on and make remarks, and we had to answer all sorts of questions. The houses have their doors and windows open to the street, and people walk in and out as they please; there is always, however, a more secluded apartment, where the female members of the families reside. In their familiarity there is nothing intentionally offensive, and it is practised simply in the desire to be civil and sociable. A young Mameluco, named Soares, an Escrivao, or public clerk, took me into his house to show me his library. I was rather surprised to see a number of well-thumbed Latin classics: Virgil, Terence, Cicero's Epistles, and Livy. I was not familiar enough, at this early period of my residence in the country, with Portuguese to converse freely with Senhor Scares, or ascertain what use he made of these books; it was an unexpected sight, a classical library in a mud-plastered and palm-thatched hut on the banks of the Tocantins.
The prospect from the village was magnificent, over the green wooded islands, far away to the grey line of forest on the opposite shore of