an old friend of ours,-an experienced woodsman, named Lauriano,—who is about to start on a journey to collect sarsaparilla in the retired channels leading to the river Juruá, some thirty miles to the west of Ega, and says he will be glad of our company. We are but humble naturalists and have no means of supporting an establishment of Indians of our own, even if they were willing to stay with us, which they would not be, as they prefer the service of traders like our friend, who has canoes and merchandise, and offers plenty of excitement of the kind which the redskin loves,-journeys months long and a crowd of hands to share the labor of paddling. All that Lauriano requires of us is a small contribution towards the expense of provisions. We can return, as we propose, at the end of a week; for he will have occasion to send a canoe to Ega about that time. The opportunity is too good a one to be lost. Lauriano is a half-caste, and his wife, Perpetua, who accompanies us, is a pure-blood Indian, but has an oval European face, regular features, and quiet, obliging manners; on her we may rely for well-cooked and regularly-served meals. They have no children, but take with them two young nephews, whose father, Manoel, also belonging to the expedition, has gone forward some days previously to the place fixed upon, with a view to prepare the first encampment. These, with an ugly, broad-faced, taciturn old Indian woman, and four stout lads, made up the whole of Lauriano's party. feeding to their roosting places; the howling monkeys have vented their last bellow for the evening, and we sit at the door of our cottage waiting for the summons to embark. But we wait in vain, and are becoming tired of listening to the melancholy hooting of owls, and the duets of night-jars, stationed at a distance from each other on the borders of the forest: so we proceed to the house of our friend to ascertain the cause of the delay. On approaching the dwelling, we perceive lights gleaming from the windows in the pitchy darkness of the night, and hear sounds of music and merriment within. Lauriano, with the usual easy-going habits of his class, seems to have forgotten all about the voyage. We find the large mud-floored chamber, full of company, a couple of wire guitars tingling in a corner, and a sort of ball going forward, Lauriano himself being in the act of dancing a fandango, with his wife as partner, in the centre of the room. A number of people, women and men, are squatted around, smoking out of long wooden pipes, and waiting their turns to stand up in the jig. It is useless remonstrating with the good-natured folks for their want of punctuality; for it is the habit of the country to postpone business to pleasure; so the best thing to do is to take the proffered cup of coffee, trust in the assurance that we shall start in the morning, and go home, re-sling the hammock, and have a good night's rest. Just as day is beginning to dawn, a rap We ourselves take at the door arouses us, and two strong lads are soon carrying our heavy boxes down to the beach. We sling our gun, nets, and game-sacks over our shoulders, hand the shot-belts and a bag full of small boxes and miscellanea to our dusky little follower, and are quickly at the water-side. The canoe, a large and stout-built boat, with mast and two arched awnings of wicker-work thatched with palm-leaves, is pushed off and the Indians, with their battledore-shaped paddles, begin to propel us quickly along. Lauriano and his wife seem sleepy after their night's revelry, and do not interrupt our quiet enjoyment of the noble river scenery amidst which we are travelling. with us only our Indian servant, Sebastian, a dark-skinned young savage, recently brought from a remote village of his tribe, who will be a useful companion in the jungle. Two small chests, one containing provisions, such as tea, coffee, sugar, biscuits, and so forth, and the other materials for preserving specimens and store boxes; a large bundle containing our hammocks and mosquito tents; and, lastly, a canvas bag with change of clothing, constitute the whole of our baggage. We remain at home during the afternoon of a sultry January day to pack up, having received orders to get ready, so as to embark in the cool of the evening. The glowing sun has set behind the darkgreen wall of forest; the short twilight is past; the last flock of squalling parrots has crossed over the village in going from their We glide along close to the banks, and note the infinite diversity of foliage of the lower trees and the variety of creeping plants which drape the water-frontage of the forest as with a mantle. We hear scarcely any sounds of animals. A loud splash in the water under . ber and December have clothed all the banks, left bare by the retiring waters, with a man, tle of verdure, besides raising the waterlevel some twenty or thirty feet, and brought a period of fine weather and cool air and refreshing winds. Mosquitoes and all other insect pests along the banks of the rivers are much less numerous, whilst, on the other hand, animal life in the shades of the forest, or on its borders, is much more active than in other seasons. On entering the main Amazons, we notice that the waters have already commenced to sink again; flocks of white Although animal life does not make itself terns are flying over the shallow places, and very obtrusive by its noises, nor disturb the troops of sandpipers and plovers, some with feeling of intense calm and solitude which bright red legs and white and black plumage, soothingly creeps over the mind, there is no are coursing along the edges of the sandlack of signs of its presence to the sight. banks. The present is the season of ripening What are those strange figures, like human for many kinds of wild fruit, and the hosts of head and shoulders, which suddenly pop up richly-plumaged, fruit-eating birds, which in here and there above the glassy surface of other months are scattered sparingly over the a quiet bay as we round a wooded point? whole region, flock to the places where the They stare for a few moments at the ap- fruit-trees grow. The season may be likened proaching canoe, and then quickly disappear to the autumn of temperate zones; but the again under the water. These are otters, of parallel will scarcely hold good, for in this a peculiar large dark-brown species which central zone of the earth, every day in the tenants all the still by-streams of the Ama- year is autumn, with regard to the developzonian system. They are so shy that it is ment of vegetable life, in the same way as it almost impossible to get within gunshot of is spring and summer; for every day leafthem, and we very rarely see a skin in the budding, flowering, fruiting, and leaf-shedpossession of the natives, although the ani- ding are going on in some species or other. mals are extremely common. We pass also, On the morning of the second day of our throughout the day, a continual succession journey, just as we have crawled from our of huge alligators, never very closely, how-sleeping-place under the palm-thatched awnever; for they are exceedingly wary. A huge ing of our canoe, we behold, on the opposite scabby carcass, or rather a double lump,the top of the head and back,-is seen at a distance, resting like a floating log on the water. You may rely upon it the monster is eying us very closely; for if the prow of the canoe is turned but for a moment in his direction, a little movement is perceived toward the tail-part of the animal, and the beast is gone from the surface. side of the sluggishly-rolling, turbid stream of the Amazons, here three miles broad, a wide gap in the low, dark line of forest that bounds the view. Within the space stretches a vacant horizon of water and sky, dotted on one side only by a broken line of trees vanishing in the distance. This is the principal mouth of one of the great tributary streams, the Japurá, which, rising eight hundred miles The season in which we are making this off, in the Andes of New Granada, here blends journey—the end end of January-is, per- its waters with those of the king of.rivers. haps, the pleasantest time of the year on The low wooded land to the west is the abode the Upper Amazons. It is the commence- of the scarlet-faced monkey, one of the most ment of the second summer, the "Verao do singular of the animal tenants of this region. Umarí," as it is called by the inhabitants. It is of moderate size, has a long coat of The scorching dry season, or the summer glossy white hair, and a face of so vivid a proper (June to October), during which the hue that the animal, at a short distance, looks river and its by-streams and lakes sink to a as though some one had laid a thick coat of level of forty feet below the high-water mark, vermilion paint on his countenance. One of is long past, and the heavy rains of Novem- its most remarkable features is its short, stumpy tail, all the other monkeys of the New World being distinguished by the length and flexibility of this member, which, in most of them, serves as a fifth hand in climbing. It might be thought, on this account, that the species has some near relationship to the short-tailed and tailless apes and baboons of the Old World, which live on the ground; but it has no further resemblance whatever to these Old World groups, being in all essential points of structure a species of the New World type of monkeys, and, like all its relatives, an exclusively arboreal animal. The singular creature is much sought after by the people of Ega; its grotesque appearance and confiding habits, when tame, making it an acceptable present to offer to a distinguished personage, such as a judge or president of a province, whom the subordinate authorities of the town wish to propitiate. It is found in no other part of America than the tract of low land we now see before us, and is there limited to an area of a few score miles in circumference. It travels in small bands along the boughs of the lofty trees, generally at a height of eighty feet or more from the ground, and the hunter, stumbling amongst the rotting logs and entangled underwood of the gloomy shades beneath, has great difficulty in getting within shot of the flocks. The weapon used is the blow-gun, a wooden tube eight feet long, through which, when at last a steady aim can be taken, the Indian propels with his breath a little poisoned arrow; the poison is previously diluted with water, so that there may be no difficulty in reviving the animal when it falls wounded into the arms of its persecutor. Lauriano, who knows the Japura well, has many stories to relate of his adventures amongst the tribes of warlike Indians which people its banks, and these beguile the way until breakfast-time, when we look out for a nice shady place in-shore, where to land, make a fire, and cook our breakfast. Whilst the fire is being made and the slabs of salt fish washed and cooked, our companion, wishing to obtain a little fruit to serve as dessert to our uninviting breakfast, takes us by a faint track through the thicket to some wild-fruit trees, the situation of which is known to him, as the place is regularly frequented by the Ega people for the purpose of collecting Brazil nuts in March and April. The distance is not more than about a furlong; but from the difficulty of the path, the necessity of cutting our way with our hunting-knives through the mazes of woody lianas, and the numerous detours we make round the denser parts, it seems more than a mile. In the end, we find ourselves again on the banks of the inlet, at a place where it is much broader than at the mouth. On the opposite side, there is a tall tree, the branches of which are ruddy with fruit, a sweet berry called pamá; as we look at it, a number of birds of a bright scarlet hue are seen gambolling and chasing each other. It is a flock of the black-throated tanager, a handsome species which abounds in these forests. Other trees of the same kind rise near to the place where we are standing, and signs of the presence of many birds are manifest in the subdued chattering and fluttering, and in the continual shower of berries falling around us. This, then, is one of the places where the handsome fruit-eating birds of the country love to congregate. We find great difficulty in getting a distinct view of them, owing to the density of the intervening canopy of lower trees; but after remaining quiet for a short time, our patience is in some measure rewarded. Parrots and toucans appear to be the most numerous; the latter distinctly visible only when hopping along the boughs in going from one part of the tree to another, and the parrots when quarrelling and driving some weaker companion from the thick cluster of foliage in which the flocks are concealed. The sight of a toucan, with its monstrous beak ornamented with bright colors, is alone sufficient to give the scene a strange exotic aspect. We can distinguish easily two kinds on the trees: one of very large size, with white and yellow breast, and crimson and saffron-colored plumes near its tail, and the other not larger than a jackdaw, of an olivegreen shade, with silky black breast, banded with yellow. Let us watch closely the movements of that grotesque, stealthily-moving fellow with the beak half a foot, at least, in length. He hops from the large bough to a slender branch, steps along the latter as far as it will bear his weight, and then, eying a bunch of fruit that is apparently out of his reach, stretches forth his long body and neck, in vain attempts to seize it. He seems in the act of falling off his perch, but recovers him- | bristly hair. It belongs to a group peculiar self by beating his wings: he has secured to South America, which seems partly to the fruit, and, stepping backwards, tosses up his head and lets the juicy morsel slide down the ungainly bill into his oesophagus. The purpose of the long, cumbrous-looking beak is now easy to divine; it is to enable the heavy, gluttonous bird to reach, from a firm perch, the fruit that lies at the end of slender twigs, which, were his beak of the ordinary size, would be inaccessible to him. connect the rodent order of mammals with the pachyderms,-the hare and rabbit with the tapir and rhinoceros. The capybára takes readily to the water, and dives well : if we were to approach the herd from the land side, the animals would be sure to plunge into the river, and secure their retreat by diving and swimming; but now, on perceiving us, they simply turn round and enter the forest. The gap through which they disappear is evidently an old one, and this, together with the laid condition of the grass, and other signs, shows that the animals are in the habit of emerging from the shades to sun themselves, or feed on these grassy terraces. Two other large rodents, near relatives of the capybára, also abound in these forests; namely, the páca, a species intermediate in size and appearance between the hog and the hare, and the cutía, similar to the páca, but smaller in size, of which there are several distinct varieties. Both take to the water when closely pursued; but All the parrots we see are of a lightgreen color, a hue which serves them as a disguise and protection against their enemies; for it renders them almost indistinguishable amongst the masses of foliage. There are evidently many distinct kinds on the trees, to judge from size alone; for some of them, the noisiest of all, are not much larger than sparrows (the perroquito do Espirito Santo, or paroquet of the Holy Ghost of the natives), whilst others are giants in comparison, and one kind shows bright patches of scarlet in its plumage. Besides tanagers, toucans, and parrots, we can distinguish many other species of birds less conspicuous they are not so decidedly aquatic in their in shape and color: amongst them numbers of elegant little creatures of dark blue and green hues with yellow legs, allied to the honey-eaters, and one large, coal-black species, which we descry hopping singly among the boughs, and which wears a patch of rich We arrive at our destination a little becrimson on its breast (Coracina rubricollis).fore sunset; the place of encampment of the But we cannot delay any longer in this interesting spot; for a loud halloo, from the direction of our encampment, announces that breakfast is ready; so Lauriano mounts nimbly up one of the lower trees, cuts off two or three of the heavily-laden branches, and, with these, we trudge back to the canoe. Our breakfast finished, we again embark, and continue our voyage. The weather is magnificent, — sunshine, without a cloud; and a light easterly breeze is blowing, which moderates the heat of the sun. Towards midday, the wind strengthens, and we then hoist our sail, and bowl along merrily, keeping always near the southern bank, where the current is generally slack. In gliding along the quiet waters of this part of the coast, we surprise a small herd of capybáras, a strange kind of rodent animal of very large size and compact form, with a face like a rat, webbed feet, claws in the form of hoofs, and a rough coat of long, tastes as the capybára. They live in the forest, in burrows which they excavate amongst the roots of trees, and come forth to feed on fallen fruits only in early morning, or on moonlit nights. sarsaparilla collectors is distant several miles within the mouth of a shady by-channel, which communicates with a network of lakes and streams forming a portion of the outlets of the great tributary, the Juruá. Leaving the broad stream of the Amazons, we paddle for an hour or more along a narrow, echoing passage, hemmed in between two lofty wails of forest, and then turn up a still narrower and shadier channel, which we follow for a mile or so, and in the end find it suddenly expanding into a spacious pool, a couple of miles in circumference. At the farther end of this solitary sheet of water, the land lies low, and the water is covered with masses of aquatic plants, swarming with ghostly wading-birds; but in the remainder of the circuit the banks are high, with a gradual slope, and the shore is scooped out into a succession of little bays fringed with beaches of clean white sand. A sombre but richly varied forest encompasses the whole. We have not proceeded far before we descry a | between pork and beef, and then, after arthin column of smoke winding amongst the ranging our plans for the morrow, retire trees; then is heard the barking of dogs, to our hammocks, slung between trees or and soon after we glide round a projecting poles fixed in the ground, under rude sheds point of land, and see, in the corner of a thatched with palm-leaves. snug little harbor, the canoes, tents, and fires of our friends. The situation chosen by Lauriano and his party for their operations seems a very good one. It has not been worked by sarsaparilla gatherers for many years: the forest on the higher land is not filled with impenetrable thickets; so that the men can scour it for many miles in all directions in search of the plants. Besides, when the ground is exhausted, the different channels of the river lie very convenient for removal to other suitable spots, still further in the interior. Game is plentiful of this we have immediate proof in the slabs of tapir meat which are now roasting for supper, transfixed by wooden spits secured by one end in the ground and slanted over the fire, and in the numbers of smoke-dried quarters of the peccary, or wild hog, lying on wooden stages clevated over the smouldering embers of other fires. Manoel, Lauriano's partner, a broadset, middle-aged man, three parts Indian, in reply to our questions concerning the tapir, tells us that the animal whose remains were being cooked had been killed in a singular manner two days previously. It had rushed into the encampment in the dead of the night, tearing through the mosquito-tent of one of the Indians, tossing him out of his hammock, and scattering the burning wood of the fires in all directions. The men were, of course, aroused; and thinking, as is always the case in nocturnal alarms, that a jaguar was the cause of the uproar, seized each the first weapon they could lay their hands on. Flight is never thought of by the stolid, unexcitable Indian. Manoel himself grasped a harpoon, and as the infuriated beast was advancing toward him, drove the iron with great force into his breast, after which he was soon despatched. Tapirs, although common in these forests, are scarcely ever encountered by hunters in the daytime; so that we have little chance of seeing anything more than the footmarks of this largest of the tropical American mammals in our wanderings. We sup heartily on the roasted tapir meat, which we find of very rich flavor, something In the morning, a little before dawn, the encampment is all alive again. Perpetua and her morose Indian servant, who bears the classical name of Eleuteria, prepare the coffee, and the men go down for a refreshing plunge in the lake. Before the sun is well up above the high wall of trees, the various parties are told off for the day's work, and depart to search the woods in various quarters for roots, each person taking with him his provisions for the day, his hunting-knife, and his gun. Manoel and Lauriano intend making a longer excursion, to explore new ground, and we, with our little helpmate Sebastian and one steady adult Indian, are to accompany them. Our course lies southward, straight for the heart of the forest. The early morning air strikes almost cold in the twilight shades, as we enter on a low, moist tract, after crossing the elevated land bordering the lake. We follow for the first hour or two the tracks made by the men on previous excursions, and at the end of that time, finding the paths becoming very faint and uncertain, begin to mark our road by breaking off branches of the lower trees, at intervals of a few yards. The underwood is not very dense in these forests of the terra firma, a few dwarf palm-trees, saplings, and bushes of mimosa, with occasionally a group of tree-ferns, only dotting the narrow spaces that lie between the trunks of the taller trees. These latter, however, rise very close together, and all of them, the slender stems as well as the monstrous trunks twenty to forty feet in circumference, shoot up. perpendicularly to a height of sixty feet or more before sending out a branch, their crowns intermingling and closing in above, so as to shut out the light of day. There is no regularity or distinctness in the masses of foliage and branches overhead: in very few cases can the individual tree be traced, stem and crown; for the delicate feathery foliage of one kind is inextricably mingled with the laurel-shaped leaves of another, or the huge palmate forms of a third; and, to increase the confusion, branches and strings of parasitic and climbing trees span from one tree to another, interweaving their |