Arnold Henry Savage Landor

Inquisitiveness—Snakes—A Wonderful Cure—Butterflies—A Striking Scene

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!" "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.). 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.

Brazilian Pack-saddles.

A Typical Village.

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 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 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 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 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 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 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. 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 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.

Author's Caravan about to cross the River Corumba.

Burity Palms.

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, 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, 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 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, 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.

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. 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