The owners of the Fazenda do Campo Novo (for so is the place called) received us with the usual kindly welcome which the hospitable Mineiros * generally extend to stray travellers. And while dinner was being prepared, we strolled into the farmyard and examined the milho (Indian corn) stores, where two little puppies were playing about, and a hen, with chickens peeping from under her wings, was settling down for the night. The owner is a widow, who lives here with her two sons-fine lads of sixteen and seventeen; the latter manage the whole work of the farm. They grow sugar-cane, maize (milho), and mandioca, and have also a large garden full of orange trees, whence we watched the slaughter of the chicken which was to be part of our evening meal.

This fazenda is one of the less extensive kind; but they are all about equally devoid of any of the comforts or decencies of civilization. The floor throughout is the hard ground; the window-frames are supplied with shutters only, which are closed at night; the rooms have no ceilings except the brown roof tiles, and these are fixed to cross laths lying on the rafters; the partition walls only reach. to the level of the wall-plate, on which rest the rafters of the sloping roof, and thus plenty of access for light and air is afforded under the eaves.

I had a room to myself, with a most comfortable mattress of the usual milho spathes. Next morning I woke as it was getting light; all was as yet still, and, opening the shutter, I found it cold and misty. In about five minutes the silence was broken by the cocks crowing, and then the dogs began to bark, chickens to chirp, pigs to grunt, men to talk, and all was suddenly lively again. After coffee, and compelling our benevolent hosts to accept a

Inhabitants of the province of Minas Geraes.

small renumeration, we rode on to Capella Nova, which we reached in a little more than two hours. I was told that when the orioles sing together, as we heard the other day, it is a sign of rain, which accordingly came this morning, but fortunately very slightly. After descending from the divide some distance, following a stream-one of the feeders of the Para—on rounding the corner of a hill we suddenly came in sight of the village of Capella Nova de Nossa Senhora do Desterro,* perched on the summit of a bare red down, but surrounded by partly cleared forest-clad hills.

Alighting at a poor-looking wineshop, we ordered breakfast. The shop is kept by an Italian, and we met there a priest, likewise Italian, who had come for a wedding, a very disreputable man, with striped blue cotton trousers, a filthy lace collar, and unshaven face. We all had breakfast together in a very dirty little back room, surrounded by the usual crowd of natives looking on; among them was a very big nigger, who burst into uncontrollable laughter at hearing us speak English to one another.

The village is the poorest looking that I have seen, the street being only some thirty feet wide; the huts-there are no houses—are all only one story; and there is a small chapel. A few palms, aloes, and cacti are to be seen in the untidy gardens, while a legion of dogs and pigs perambulate the street.

After breakfasting off some roast "paca," which is an excellent white meat, we went to see a live specimen which had been caught with a young one in a neighbouring wood, where they abound. The paca is a rodent (Cælogenus fulvus, Cram.), striped very prettily with fawn colour and white, about the size of a small pig. When hunted it dives into the stream, and on rising to the surface it is shot.

*The New Chapel of Our Lady of the Desert.

Some very pretty basket-work is made here from the pith of a creeper called "sipão," which is dyed different bright colours.

Leaving at midday, we continued our journey, and crossed the Para just below the village; the river then turns abruptly to the left, and, taking a considerable bend, flows far away from the road we travelled. In passing through a forest, Bithell, thinking he would try his shooting powers while riding, fired at a tree with his revolver. The shot glancing off touched my camarade on the shoulder. He yelled a thousand murders, but he—unlike Rufus, both in name, which was Fortunato, and in colour, being dusky was only frightened, and not hurt in the least.

At 5.15 p.m. we reached the Cidade do Rio de Peixe, and, inquiring as to the whereabouts of the camp of the second section, were informed it was a league and a half away by the Rio Para. We, therefore, hired a guide for two milreis to take us there, and went through the picturesque village which is on the top of a hill. It has very steep streets, and there is much soft white sandstone about. After leaving the church the road descends rapidly, passing through a gorge cut in the white sandstone some eight feet wide by twenty deep, overhung by shrubs and grass, wherein were the nests of humming-birds.

From the summit near the church we had a fine view of the valley of the Rio de Peixe, as far as its junction with the Rio Para, some two leagues and a half distant. At 5.50 we crossed the Rio de Peixe-five hundred feet below the level of the town-then ascended another hill, and in half an hour had reached an altitude of only a hundred feet below the town. At this point, the sun having set, we had a splendid view. All round us, except where the hill we were on hid the view, were numerous ranges of mountains,

mostly undulating, but with one remarkable pyramidal mass standing far above the other hills. We continued descending and ascending alternately, going through swamp and rushes, mandioca and milho fields, and pitchy-dark forests, until at length, about seven, we saw below us the distant glimmering light of a camp fire, and in another quarter of an hour we were distributing a large packet of letters and newspapers among our friends.

We were regaled on ham and cachaça, and then, after a long talk with the chief of section, I turned in for the night on a folding chair, covered by my rug and poncho. After an excellent night's rest, and some tinned beef, cakes, and tea for breakfast, we set off once more, and soon crossed the Rio Para by the Bombassa bridge. It was as ramshackle as all the other bridges I have come across, with hardly any exception. Bridge construction here is generally as follows: longitudinal timbers are laid upon the top of the piles which are driven into the river bed, and on these timbers are placed boughs and sticks-unprepared in any way-while the crevices are filled up with sods. There are no side rails, the footway is always full of holes, and many of the timbers are rotten, and give way under your weight, so that it is always impossible to ride over them; you have to dismount and lead your animals with much coaxing, as they are often frightened to cross. This bridge has a specially broken-down look from not being straight it extends three-quarters across the river in one direction, and then suddenly bends up stream to the other bank.

An hour later we re-crossed the river by another bridge, which had side railings, but the footway was in a very dangerous condition, and we hardly dared to go over it. At midday a very heavy storm came on, so we were obliged

to seek refuge in a roadside farm, where only women and children, who are always very numerous, were to be seen. A very nice-looking coloured girl, with a child on her hips (the invariable way of carrying children), brought us in coffee, and soon an ox-cart full of milho arrived, accompanied by two men-husband and père de famille, and his brother. They were followed by a cart drawn by ten goats, laden with wood. This was the first goat-cart we had seen, but subsequently we fell in with several. While at Capella Nova, a cart passed us drawn by ten rams. These carts are all used for the purpose of carrying firewood.

After a pretty good vegetable dinner, the rain having partly ceased, and wishing to push on to better quarters than this poor hut, called Fazenda do Sapecado, could afford, we took our leave and proceeded through the dripping forests along the clay paths-horribly wet and slippery owing to the rain-reaching the Fazenda da Mata, after less than an hour's ride, at 4.30.

*

The owner, Coronel João Luiz de Oliveira Campos, of whom we had heard much on the way up, is a great man in every sense of the word, and he fought in the Paraguayan War. He has a wife and two daughters, of whom we only got an occasional glimpse when they were looking at us through a nearly closed door; but his two sons, who were with us most of the evening, are tall, fine-looking, and pleasant lads of about eighteen. We also saw his two little grandchildren, a boy and a girl. All of them are fair-haired and nice-looking. The colonel is a man with a tall commanding figure and presence, very stout, with a long grey beard. He has an extensive estate and many slaves, as

* Coronel, = Anglicè Colonel, one of many instances, in Portuguese, of the substitution of r for ; e.g. also prata for plata = silver.