Santarem was an old settlement of no great interest. It had a few relatively fine ancient buildings and many ugly new ones.

Early on November 6th the steamer proceeded on her way to Belem (ParÁ). On leaving Santarem we first emerged into the great Amazon River, a regular sea of fresh water, where we tossed about in a strong north-easterly gale. Unless one knew, one never could have imagined oneself on a river, as the stream was so wide at that point that the opposite bank could not be seen at all.

Things were a little better when we entered the channel of Monte Alegre. On that channel was the little town of the same name, half of the buildings being along the water's edge, the other half on the summit of a low hill near by. There is a sulphur spring there with wonderful medicinal properties, and coal is also said to be found.

A colony of Spaniards had been imported to work, but they were dissatisfied and had left. Tobacco, made up into fusiform sticks 6 ft. long and tied into bundles, was exported from that place in considerable quantities; the inhabitants were also engaged in breeding cattle, growing Indian corn, and drying fish—the pirarucÚ (Vastres gigas), a salmonoid vulgarly called the cod-fish of the Amazon. A big trade was done in that dried fish all over that region.

In the full moon of a glorious night we could discern to the north a mountain region with elevations of over 3,000 ft. Between those mountains—the Serra de Almerin—and ourselves, lay a long flat island, the vegetation on which was, for that particular region, comparatively sparse. That island of mud had formed during the last fifteen or twenty years, and was at the time of my visit several kilometres in length. It was called the Pesqueiro. Islands have a way of forming in a very short time in the Amazon, while others change their shape or disappear altogether.

On November 7th we were facing the principal outlet of the Amazon to the north-east. That main estuary is, however, not as navigable as the one south of it, through which most of the big ships pass. An archipelago had formed at that spot. The fortress of Matapa, very ancient, stood on the largest outlet.

We went through the channel called the Itoquara. Another, the Tajapurozinho, was to the south, forming a boundary on that side of the large island, which we skirted to the north in the Itoquara channel. The beautiful island of Uruttahi was now in sight, to the north of the largest outlet. Like all other islands in that neighbourhood, it was flat and of alluvial formation.

In order to avoid the open waters, where the small ship upon which I was tossed about considerably, we kept to the smaller channels between the islands, going first through the channel of LimÃo and after that through the Tajapuru. It was practically the same course as the Itoquara, which was called by different names in different parts. It was narrow and tortuous, and required great skill in the navigation of it; but it was extraordinarily deep—so deep that all the big ocean steamers entering the Amazon followed this channel in preference to the main outlet of the river, which is not navigable owing to many sandbanks.

We were there in a regular maze of islands, composed mostly of mud and of recent formation, not more than one or two feet above the water. For Brazil, they were fairly thickly inhabited, miserable huts being visible every few hundred metres or so.

On our right as we went through we had a luxuriant growth of mirichi palms, some of great height and close together—a regular forest of them. At the first glance as you looked at those islands, it seemed as if all along the coast-line a low palisade had been erected. It was indeed a natural palisade of aninga, an aquatic plant growing in profusion on the edge of mud-banks. The aninga is said to contain a powerful poison, the touch of which produces violent itching.

All the houses and huts on those islands necessarily had to be built on high piles, as the country was constantly inundated, the tide rising and falling some three feet in that particular channel.

Campas Indian Children.

Campas Indian Children.

As we neared the mouth of the river, with Para as our objective, we first saw the lighthouse of Buyussu in the immense bay which takes its name from the little town of Coralhina. Both this town and that of Boa Vista were on the left side of us, on the great island of Marajo. On the right the island of Oya was visible, and the island of Araras. Between the light of Buyussu and the island of Oya opened the great bay of Melgasso.

Considering the amount of navigation that went through, it was amazing to see how badly lighted that river was—the two lights, such as the one at Buyussu, and the one at Mandy, at the entrance of the bay of Marajo, being no bigger than and not so brilliant as the ordinary street oil-lamp in an English or French village. I understand that all ships navigating the Amazon have to pay a large tax on each journey for the maintenance of the lighthouses on that immense waterway. It is quite criminal that no proper lights are constructed in order to protect the safety of the passengers and the valuable cargoes which go by that important water route.

More picturesque than most of the scenery I had so far witnessed on the Amazon was the narrow Foro da Jararaca. From the lamp-post—it cannot in all honesty be called a lighthouse—of Mandy, we made for the other lamp-post of Capin; and from this for the third lamp-post of Arrozal, navigation being most difficult in that part. From there we steered direct for the Farol de Cutijuba, a light somewhat more respectable than the others at the entrance of the Barra of ParÁ.

After going through the bay of Coralhina we did not follow the great channel that was before us, but skirted the island of ConcepÇÃo to the left, passing between it and Paketta Island. After that island we found ourselves in the bay of Jappelin, so named after a bird of that region, which builds an elongated nest.

Having passed the Cutijuba Island, and then the Taxipa Island on our left, in the early morning we entered between the islands of Arabiranga and Jararakinha. The larger vessels generally follow a course outside on the east of this island before entering the large bay of Marajo.

We could plainly see that we were approaching a large city, for quantities of little sailing boats were now visible on the water. Signs of civilization were beginning to appear on the island of Arabiranga. A brick and tile kiln, which supplied Belem (ParÁ) with most of its building materials, had been established there. Alongside the island could be seen a lot of steamers belonging to the Amazon River Company. Beyond was the bay of Guajara, with the city and many ocean steamers looming in the distance.

On November 18th we steamed into the bay, and there stood the city of Belem (ParÁ) before us, while the noise of the town began to get louder and louder as we approached the dock. That sound was welcome to me in a way, and at the same time worrying, after the dead silence I had been accustomed to for the last many months.

A swarm of robber-porters invaded the steamer the moment we came alongside the pier. The bustle, the loud shouting, the pushing, seemed most irritating. Ill as I was, for a few moments I almost contemplated the idea of turning back toward the virgin forest. The heat was oppressive, the bells of the tramways jangled all the time, the rattle of the mediÆval carriages on the cobble-stones of the pavement was distressing.

Things were not pleasanter when I put up in the best hotel, where the best room I could get was not unlike a coal-cellar. We will not speak of the food.

Those aspiring efforts at semi-civilization were to my mind ten times worse than no civilization at all. Had it not been for the extreme kindness of my friend Commandante Macedo, of Mr. Ross, the manager of the London and Brazilian Bank, and of the British Consul, I would have left the place that same day.

At Belem I dismissed Alcides, Antonio, and white Filippe, paying their full passage by sea and railway and full wages up to the day of their arrival at their respective homes. They had certainly many faults, and had not behaved well to me; but I am given to weigh matters justly, and there was no doubt that those men had endured terrific hardships and, willingly or unwillingly, had carried through quite a herculean task. I therefore not only paid them the high wages upon which I had agreed, but I gave each a handsome present of money.

The three men duly signed receipts and unsolicited certificates, in which they declared that during the entire journey they had been treated by me in a generous manner and with every possible thoughtfulness and consideration.

As they had not been able to spend a single penny since we had left Diamantino they had accumulated a considerable sum of cash. I warned them, as I had done with Benedicto, to be careful and not waste their money. They went out for a walk. Some hours later they returned, dressed up in wonderful costumes with fancy silk ties, patent leather shoes, gold chains and watches, and gaudy scarf-pins. In a few hours they had wasted away nearly the entire sum I had paid out to them. Everything was extremely expensive in ParÁ—certainly three or four times the price which things would fetch in London or New York.

Two days later white Filippe and Antonio embarked for Rio de Janeiro, with hardly a word of farewell to me. Alcides refused to travel on the same steamer with his companions, and left by a later one.

The city of ParÁ is much too well known for me to enter into a long description of it. Since its discovery in the year 1500, when Vincente Yanes Pinzon cast anchor in the MaraÑon or Amazon, Belem has become a beautiful city. As everybody knows, it is the capital of the ParÁ province, which has an area of 1,149,712 sq. kil. Geographically, Belem could not be situated in a better position, and is bound some day to become the most flourishing city of the Brazilian Republic. It is undoubtedly the key to the great Amazon River, although it is not actually at the mouth of the Amazon, but 138 kil. from the ocean. Through it is bound to pass the trade not only of that riverine portion of Brazil, but also of Peru and Bolivia.

Campas Old Woman and her Son.

Campas Old Woman and her Son.

Belem (ParÁ) is mostly known to Europeans as the nest of yellow fever. During the last few years it has been freed absolutely from that scourge, the cases of yellow fever being now few and far between, owing to the wonderful progress made by hygiene and the praiseworthy efforts made by the Province to keep the city in a healthy condition.

The population of ParÁ is 192,230 inhabitants. Many spacious and handsome edifices, such as the Government buildings and the professional Institutes, do great credit to the city; while the Peace Theatre is one of the finest in Brazil. Many private mansions are of some architectural beauty, and some of the new avenues and the municipal gardens are handsome. The slaughter-house, the iron market, etc., are quite up to date, and the city even boasts of a crematorium.

My object in coming to Belem (ParÁ) was merely to see my men safely on board on their return to the Minas Geraes and Goyaz Provinces; also to buy some new cameras and instruments, so that I could start on the second part of my expedition, following the entire course of the Amazon almost up to its source, then cross over the Andes and reach the Pacific Ocean.

My English friends in ParÁ tried to dissuade me from attempting the journey, as I was in a pitiful condition. What was worse, civilization, instead of making me feel better, was smashing me up altogether. Every day I was getting weaker and weaker, and more exhausted. I had hardly strength to walk about, less still to go up or down stairs. Beri-beri commenced to develop in my right foot, and added to my other trials.

The English consul told me it was absolute folly to try and proceed on such a long journey in such an exhausted state.

Having bought fresh clothes and cameras for my new expedition, I left ParÁ on November 12th at noon on the excellent ship Anthony of the Booth line, on my way up the Amazon to Manaos.

I will not attempt here to give a description of that amazing river the Amazon—amazing because it is very big and not because it is beautiful, for indeed I do not believe that in all my travels I have ever seen a river quite so ugly and uninteresting as the Amazon.

First of all, it is so big that you seldom see both sides of the river at a time; its waters are muddy and filthy; its climate is damp, oppressive and unhealthy; its vegetation, when you are near enough the banks to see it, is entangled, half-rotted, and smelly. All along one's nostrils are offended by the fetid odour of mud and decayed vegetable matter.

People in Europe seem imbued with the idea that, as you go along the Amazon, you must be attracted by the great number of birds of beautiful plumage, insects and butterflies of all sizes and amazing colours. Occasionally, especially in the early morning and at sunset, one does notice perhaps a flock of green paroquets with yellow foreheads, notable for their peculiar, clumsy, rapid wing-flapping flight and their harsh shrieks when settling on the trees. Occasionally, too, one may see a family of larger parrots dashing across the sky; but, indeed, birds in the lower Amazon are not plentiful by any means, nor, indeed, is their plumage particularly attractive, most birds, except the parrots, being small and very soberly tinted.

As for the melodious songs of birds which civilized people always imagine in the equatorial forest—the song that will set you dreaming while you are basking under palm trees—the actual traveller will find the greatest disappointment of all in that respect. With one or two exceptions, such as the Troglodytes fuscus, a small brown wren which emits sweet musical notes, most birds of the Amazon have grating voices and harsh piercing whistles, or monotonous deep repetitions of two or three funereal notes which are more apt to drive you insane than to fascinate you. Among the most unmusical singers of the lower Amazon may be counted the several families of finches and fly-catchers, and the local thrushes, which feed on ants.

Similar disappointment awaits one in regard to the vegetation. People imagine Brazil a land of beautiful flowers, the forest made up of immense trees with luxuriant foliage, overladen with parasitic orchids—eternally in bloom, of course, in the dreamy minds of the untravelled, and just waiting to be picked and to be placed in one's buttonhole. The sky, naturally, over such a forest, could only be swarming with birds of all sizes, with plumage of the richest colours and hues; and what else could such a luxuriant country have in the way of butterflies and insects than some which resemble precious gems in the iridescent tones of their wings and bodies?

That is what people imagine. The following is what you really see.

The trees, overcrowded everywhere, far from being gigantic, are, instead, mean-looking and anÆmic—not unlike the pallid, overgrown youth of the over-populated slums of a great city. Orchids? Yes, there are plenty of orchids about, but you never see them unless you go on a special search for them with a high ladder or some other such means of climbing high trees. In any case, you would not detect them unless you had the eye of an expert. It is well not to forget that in tropical climates, as in temperate zones, plants are not always in bloom when you happen to be passing. As for the butterflies, you seldom see any at all in the actual forest.

Perhaps one of the most common birds of the Amazon is a kind of grey-eyed, noisy, mimicking magpie, locally called guache or japim or jappelin (Cassicus icterranotus), quite amusing with its energetic movements, its observant habits, its familiar interest in everything and everybody, and its facility for reproducing correctly enough sounds which momentarily attract its attention. The wonderful activity of its slender body, clothed in velvety black, neatly-groomed yellow feathers, and its charming wickedness make it, perhaps, one of the most attractive birds near towns and settlements on the river. It builds elongated nests which are 20 to 30 in. in length, the entrance to which is in the lower portion. They are suspended from the branches of trees. As I have said, the large bay near the mouth of the Amazon has been named in honour of this bird.

Campas Indian Woman.

Campas Indian Woman.

Another bird of great interest is the araruna (or Macrocerus hyacinthinus), a magnificent macaw of great size, which is perhaps the rarest and most beautiful found in the interior of Brazil from the northern end of the central plateau as far as the Amazon River. Its feathers are of a soft, metallic, dark greyish-blue, almost black, except round the eyes, where the uncovered white skin shows through. I have seen these birds in flight on four or five different occasions on the Tapajoz River, and tried in vain to secure a specimen. I generally saw them in couples, flying at a great height and speed. These birds are extremely intelligent, and become most affectionate and faithful companions to a considerate master. In fact, they will attack any one endeavouring to get near their owners. Their beaks are extremely strong. When in captivity they are disastrous to one's belongings, as they seem to possess an irresistible desire to crush and tear anything they see. They can chip off pieces of furniture made of the hardest wood with considerable ease. This is easily understood when you can see them crush into fragments the extremely hard nuts of the Acrocomia lasiopatha, on which they principally live.

Sir Roger Casement, of Putumayo atrocities fame, whom I had the pleasure of meeting at Manaos, possessed a most beautiful specimen of the Macrocerus hyacinthinus. It was most touching to see the pathetic devotion which existed between master and bird and vice versa. Only the people of the hotel where we both stayed did not appreciate the magnificent blue-black visitor, for when its master was out it spent all its time chipping off pieces from tables and chairs, and took the greatest pride and delight in flinging forks, knives and spoons off the dining-room tables, and tearing the menus to strips. The Brazilian waiters, in their caution to maintain their own anatomy intact, did not dare go near it; for the bird, even on hearing remarks made on its behaviour, would let itself down the sides of chairs and defiantly proceed to attack the intruders.

Similar but larger and more beautiful than this macaw is the ararama, extremely rare and perfectly black. The natives say that it is impossible to keep it in captivity as it is quite untameable. I saw a couple of these birds. They were really magnificent—certainly 3 ft. in length from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail.

When the steamer was close enough to the banks or an island we occasionally saw small groups of assahy palms (Euterpe oleracea) 20 to 30 ft. high, with smooth stems and feather-like foliage. Other palms, equally graceful, with stems like polished columns and delicately-cut fronds aloft, were also to be seen; but otherwise most of the vegetation was entangled and untidy.

From the trees hung liane in festoons or suspended like cords. Creepers of all kinds smothered the trunks and branches of the trees, which seemed to struggle for a little life and air; while, when we had an opportunity of examining the branches of the trees a little closer, we could see absolute swarms of parasites covering every bough.

Near some of the houses could be seen the Musa paradisiaca, the most common kind of banana palm in that region, with its green leaves ten to twelve feet long reflecting beautiful shades like silk velvet when caressed by the wind. I saw one or two specimens of the bread-fruit tree, with its digitated foliage, and several kinds of pine-apple plants (Bromelia)—some with leaves toothed along their edges, others shaped more like the blade of a long knife.

I was in great pain, and could not observe much. Also, most of the time we were at a great distance from the banks, and the river was so wide that it was almost like being in mid-ocean.

On November 14th we passed Obidos, at the mouth of the Rio Trombetas, the narrowest point, where the river went through a channel only 2,000 m. broad, but of extreme depth. The channel was formed by a depression between two hillocks 250 ft. high or so. The settlement of Obidos consisted of two long white buildings near the water, and a series of stores. To the left of the village as we looked at it was a high cliff extending for some 2,000 m. up stream over a beautiful beach. The cliff showed patches of red and yellow rock of a brilliant colour, the lower strata being of a deep red and clearly defined, the upper ones of a raw sienna colour, the dividing-line between the two colours being somewhat undulating. There was dense forest on the summit of the cliff. A good deal of vegetation had crept down and was clinging to the side of the cliff.

A little white church with a pointed spire stood on the highest point of the cliff, close to the town. Behind the cliff rose a hill of some height, upon which the better houses, with red-tiled roofs, were situated. A wide road led up to them.

The water of the stream was of a dirty yellow, and very turbulent owing to the strong wind that was blowing and the violent current. Proceeding up stream, we then came to a hill 300 ft. high on the right, which ended abruptly in an almost vertical red and yellow cliff plunging into the water. On the opposite side of the river, along the narrow neck, were lowlands, quite open and scantily wooded, over which rose great columns of black smoke, caused by the natives burning down the forest in order to prepare the land for their plantations. It was at this point that the entire volume of the Amazon could be gauged at a glance. As you looked up stream a long bluish line of low forest could be perceived over the gradually expanding deep yellow river. Dozens upon dozens of columns of smoke were visible. When night came the effects of those forest fires, with the reflection of the light upon the low clouds and in the water, were very weird and beautiful.

Greetings were occasionally exchanged upon the river as a big ocean steamer went by, or an over-enthusiastic captain let off rockets, which brought all the passengers from the dinner-table to the port-holes. Farther on we came to a pretty plantation on the left with innumerable banana palms crowded together, and some cocoa trees. At one time the exportation of cocoa from that section of the Amazon between Obidos and Santarem was considerable—some 8,000 kilos yearly. I was told that that industry has now gone down a great deal, and not more than 4,000 kilos were exported in 1911.

Campas Woman.

Campas Woman.

Campas Man, Woman and Child.

Campas Man, Woman and Child.

As we went farther up stream we passed alluvial banks of comparatively recent formation, in some places only one foot above the water and liable to constant inundation—in other places 10 or 12 ft. above the stream, and exposing an abrupt crumbling section of grey clay on a lower stratum with a narrow band of raw sienna colour. This yellow band rarely exceeded a thickness of 1 ft. We had an object-lesson here, where the banks were eroded by water and were gradually crumbling away, of the reason why the trees were so anÆmic and generally died. The roots, instead of burrowing deep into the ground, spread out laterally in a horizontal position quite close to the surface of the ground. That night we had a beautiful effect of rain and smoke and the reflection from the fires, a wonderful study of reds and yellows and dark blues which would have fascinated the immortal painter Turner.

Farther on we passed an island 6 ft. above the water with beautiful green grass upon it, wonderful grazing land, and no trees whatever. On both sides of the channel we followed, in fact, we had fine open country all around, which seemed excellent for grazing purposes.

More interesting to me than the river itself were the wonderful effects of the ever-changing light in the sky. I saw no more the wonderful radiations which had given me so much pleasure in Matto Grosso, but we beheld here a great haze of delicate tones up to a great height and a light blue sky above it. The clouds seemed to possess no well-defined form, but were more like masses of mist, the edges blending gradually with the blue of the sky. Only to the west was there an attempt at globular formation in the clouds. The clouds of heavy smoke which rose and rolled about over the landscape helped to render the otherwise monotonous scene a little more picturesque. Farther up stream we reached on the right a long island almost absolutely free from trees, except at its western end, where a miserable growth of sickly trees covered its point. Beyond was a beautiful spit of red sand some 2,000 m. long.

On November 15th we reached Itaquatiara, where the banks of the river were much higher than usual on the right side. I was much struck by the sight of a lot of fallen timber lying about on the slopes of the high bank, and by that of innumerable logs of wood floating on the water, quite an unusual sight in Brazilian waters. Itaquatiara was placed geographically on a most convenient site, opposite the mouth of the great Madeira River. Now that the Madeira-Mamore railway is completed, bringing down the trade of Bolivia and of the Acre territory, there is no doubt that it will become a most important trading centre. To my mind it is bound to supplant Manaos, which is very inconveniently situated, not on the Amazon River itself but on the tributary Rio Negro.

All the rubber which goes down the Madeira River has so far been conveyed to Manaos by a great detour, involving much expense and time. In the future, I think, when Itaquatiara has developed into a big city, and proper arrangements are made for landing and storing cargoes, it is certain to become a most important centre of commerce. Land is already going up in value tremendously, although Manaos has waged war against the growth of a town at that spot, which will be inimical to her own interests.

The Ucayalli River.

The Ucayalli River.

The Launch on which Author travelled almost to the Foot of the Andes.

The Launch on which Author travelled almost to the Foot of the Andes.

As is well known, the Madeira-Mamore railway was built from Porto Velho, on the Madeira River, around and along a series of rapids and waterfalls which rendered navigation most difficult, as far as Guajara Merim, on the river Mamore, a mere continuation of the Madeira River. The construction of the railway had long been contemplated by the Brazilian and Bolivian Governments, but it was a difficult matter owing to the dense forest and the unhealthy climate, which equals, if it does not even surpass, the deadliness of Panama in the time of the French. The works of the railway were begun as long ago as 1878 by Collings Brothers, who were then contractors, but nothing effectively was done until the Brazilian Government, fully realizing the necessity of opening up that rich country, especially after the purchase from Bolivia of the Acre Territory, perhaps one of the richest regions on earth as far as rubber is concerned, entered into a contract with a Brazilian engineer named Catambry, to build the railway. The Brazilian engineer transferred the contract to Mr. Percival Farquhar, who, in his turn, organized the Madeira-Mamore Company, entrusting the actual construction of the railway to Messrs. May, Jeckill & Randolph.

They started work in July, 1907, with preliminary engineering, the actual construction not beginning until January 1908. Work began with one engine, a Baldwin locomotive rebuilt, which had been there since 1878. Gradually the number of engines—all Baldwin locomotives—was increased to twelve. During the construction six tugs and eleven lighters were used on the Madeira River for handling the material. The contractors took into Brazil during the four and a half years occupied in the construction from 43,000 to 45,000 men, although they never had more than 5,000 men working at any one time. Many, indeed, were the deaths registered, and the steamers were constantly bringing back men laid up with fever. The supplies for those men had all to be brought from Europe and America, except sugar and coffee, as nothing could be obtained in the country itself. The four chief engineers were all Americans, Mr. Randolph and Mr. Jeckill, who were at the head of the entire concern, spending all their time on the line in progress or at their head office in Manaos, which was mostly in charge of Mr. May. One chief surgeon, Dr. Carl Lovelace, handled all the hospital work, with the assistance of fifteen physicians; but innumerable were the lives lost from yellow fever and beri-beri, the two most prevalent diseases in that fatal country.

Campas Family wading across a Stream.

Campas Family wading across a Stream.

A Farmhouse on the Andes.

A Farmhouse on the Andes.

Before the railway was built it was necessary to unload the battellÃos or trading boats thirty-eight times during the journey at the thirty-eight different rapids and falls on the way. The journey over the rapids took not less than forty days. I shall not speak of the constant danger to boats, their crews and merchandise. Now by the railway the entire journey occupies from eight to ten hours. The length of the completed railway, now in full working order, is 364 kil. The last rail was laid on April 30th, 1912, when Mrs. Jeckill drove the last and golden spike—an honour which no other white woman, I believe, has ever had in so inhospitable a country.