The Naturalist on the River Amazons [79]
miles; then commences abruptly the Serra de Marauaqua, which is succeeded in a similar way by the Velha Pobre range, the Serras de Tapaiuna-quara, and Paraua-quara. All these form a striking contrast to the Serra de Almeyrim in being quite destitute of trees. They have steep rugged sides, apparently clothed with short herbage, but here and there exposing bare white patches. Their total length is about forty miles. In the Tear, towards the interior, they are succeeded by other ranges of hills communicating with the central mountain-chain of Guiana, which divides Brazil from Cayenne.
As we sailed along the southern shore, during the 6th and two following days, the table-topped hills on the opposite side occupied most of our attention. The river is from four to five miles broad, and in some places long, low wooded islands intervene in mid-stream, whose light-green, vivid verdure formed a strangely beautiful foreground to the glorious landscape of broad stream and grey mountain. Ninety miles beyond Almeyrim stands the village of Monte Alegre, which is built near the summit of the last hill visible of this chain. At this point the river bends a little towards the south, and the hilly country recedes from its shores to reappear at Obydos, greatly decreased in height, about a hundred miles further west.
We crossed the river three times between Monte Alegre and the next town, Santarem. In the middle the waves ran very high, and the vessel lurched fearfully, hurling everything that was not well secured from one side of the deck to the other. On the morning of the 9th of October, a gentle wind carried us along a "remanso," or still water, under the southern shore. These tracts of quiet water are frequent on the irregular sides of the stream, and are the effect of counter movements caused by the rapid current of its central parts. At 9 a.m. we passed the mouth of a Parana-mirim, called Mahica, and then found a sudden change in the colour of the water and aspect of the banks. Instead of the low and swampy water-frontage which had prevailed from the mouth of the Xingu, we saw before us a broad sloping beach of white sand. The forest, instead of being an entangled mass of irregular and rank vegetation as hitherto, presented a rounded outline, and created an impresssion of repose that was very pleasing. We now approached, in fact, the mouth of the Tapajos, whose clear olive- green waters here replaced the muddy current against which we had so long been sailing. Although this is a river of great extent-- 1000 miles in length, and, for the last eighty miles of its course, four to ten in breadth--its contribution to the Amazons is not perceptible in the middle of the stream. The white turbid current of the main river flows disdainfully by, occupying nearly the whole breadth of the channel, while the darker water of its tributary seems to creep along the shore, and is no longer distinguishable four or five miles from its mouth.
We reached Santarem at 11 a.m. The town has a clean and cheerful appearance from the river. It consists of three long streets, with a few short ones crossing them at right angles, and contains about 2500 inhabitants. It lies just within the mouth of Tapajos, and is divided into two parts, the town and the aldeia or village. The houses of the white and trading classes are substantially built, many being of two and three stories, and all white-washed and tiled. The aldeia, which contains the Indian portion of the population, or did so formerly, consists mostly of mud huts, thatched with palm leaves. The situation of the town is very beautiful. The land, although but slightly elevated, does not form, strictly speaking, a portion of the alluvial river plains of the Amazons, but is rather a northern prolongation of the Brazilian continental land. It is scantily wooded, and towards the interior consists of undulating campos, which are connected with a series of hills extending southward as far as the eye can reach. I subsequently made this place my head- quarters for three years; an account of its neighbourhood is
As we sailed along the southern shore, during the 6th and two following days, the table-topped hills on the opposite side occupied most of our attention. The river is from four to five miles broad, and in some places long, low wooded islands intervene in mid-stream, whose light-green, vivid verdure formed a strangely beautiful foreground to the glorious landscape of broad stream and grey mountain. Ninety miles beyond Almeyrim stands the village of Monte Alegre, which is built near the summit of the last hill visible of this chain. At this point the river bends a little towards the south, and the hilly country recedes from its shores to reappear at Obydos, greatly decreased in height, about a hundred miles further west.
We crossed the river three times between Monte Alegre and the next town, Santarem. In the middle the waves ran very high, and the vessel lurched fearfully, hurling everything that was not well secured from one side of the deck to the other. On the morning of the 9th of October, a gentle wind carried us along a "remanso," or still water, under the southern shore. These tracts of quiet water are frequent on the irregular sides of the stream, and are the effect of counter movements caused by the rapid current of its central parts. At 9 a.m. we passed the mouth of a Parana-mirim, called Mahica, and then found a sudden change in the colour of the water and aspect of the banks. Instead of the low and swampy water-frontage which had prevailed from the mouth of the Xingu, we saw before us a broad sloping beach of white sand. The forest, instead of being an entangled mass of irregular and rank vegetation as hitherto, presented a rounded outline, and created an impresssion of repose that was very pleasing. We now approached, in fact, the mouth of the Tapajos, whose clear olive- green waters here replaced the muddy current against which we had so long been sailing. Although this is a river of great extent-- 1000 miles in length, and, for the last eighty miles of its course, four to ten in breadth--its contribution to the Amazons is not perceptible in the middle of the stream. The white turbid current of the main river flows disdainfully by, occupying nearly the whole breadth of the channel, while the darker water of its tributary seems to creep along the shore, and is no longer distinguishable four or five miles from its mouth.
We reached Santarem at 11 a.m. The town has a clean and cheerful appearance from the river. It consists of three long streets, with a few short ones crossing them at right angles, and contains about 2500 inhabitants. It lies just within the mouth of Tapajos, and is divided into two parts, the town and the aldeia or village. The houses of the white and trading classes are substantially built, many being of two and three stories, and all white-washed and tiled. The aldeia, which contains the Indian portion of the population, or did so formerly, consists mostly of mud huts, thatched with palm leaves. The situation of the town is very beautiful. The land, although but slightly elevated, does not form, strictly speaking, a portion of the alluvial river plains of the Amazons, but is rather a northern prolongation of the Brazilian continental land. It is scantily wooded, and towards the interior consists of undulating campos, which are connected with a series of hills extending southward as far as the eye can reach. I subsequently made this place my head- quarters for three years; an account of its neighbourhood is