There is, in fact, a great variety of mammals, birds, and reptiles, but they are widely scattered, and all excessively shy of man.The region is so extensive, and uniform in the forest clothing of its surface, that it is only at long intervals that animals are seen in abundance when some particular spot is found which is more attractive than others.Brazil, moreover, is poor throughout in terrestrial mammals, and the species are of small size; they do not, therefore, form a conspicuous feature in its forests.The huntsman would be disappointed who expected to find here flocks of animals similar to the buffalo herds of North America, or the swarms of antelopes and herds of ponderous pachyderms of Southern Africa.The largest and most interesting portion of the Brazilian mammal fauna is arboreal in its habits;this feature of the animal denizens of these forests I have already alluded to.The most intensely arboreal animals in the world are the South American monkeys of the family Cebidae, many of which have a fifth hand for climbing in their prehensile tails, adapted for this function by their strong muscular development, and the naked palms under their tips.This seems to teach us that the South American fauna has been slowly adapted to a forest life, and, therefore, that extensive forests must have always existed since the region was first peopled by mammalia.
But to this subject, and to the natural history of the monkeys, of which thirty-eight species inhabit the Amazon region, I shall have to return.
We often read, in books of travels, of the silence and gloom of the Brazilian forests.They are realities, and the impression deepens on a longer acquaintance.The few sounds of birds are of that pensive or mysterious character which intensifies the feeling of solitude rather than imparts a sense of life and cheerfulness.Sometimes, in the midst of the stillness, a sudden yell or scream will startle one; this comes from some defenseless fruit-eating animal, which is pounced upon by a tiger-cat or stealthy boa-constrictor.Morning and evening the howling monkeys make a most fearful and harrowing noise, under which it is difficult to keep up one's buoyancy of spirit.The feeling of inhospitable wildness, which the forest is calculated to inspire, is increased tenfold under this fearful uproar.Often, even in the still hours of midday, a sudden crash will be heard resounding afar through the wilderness, as some great bough or entire tree falls to the ground.There are, besides, many sounds which it is impossible to account for.I found the natives generally as much at a loss in this respect as myself.Sometimes a sound is heard like the clang of an iron bar against a hard, hollow tree, or a piercing cry rends the air; these are not repeated, and the succeeding silence tends to heighten the unpleasant impression which they make on the mind.With the native it is always the Curupira, the wild man or spirit of the forest, which produces all noises they are unable to explain.For myths are the rude theories which mankind, in the infancy of knowledge, invent to explain natural phenomena.The Curupira is a mysterious being, whose attributes are uncertain, for they vary according to locality.Sometimes he is described as a kind of orangutang, being covered with long, shaggy hair, and living in trees.At others, he is said to have cloven feet and a bright red face.He has a wife and children, and sometimes comes down to the rocas to steal the mandioca.At one time I had a Mameluco youth in my service, whose head was full of the legends and superstitions of the country.He always went with me into the forest; in fact, I could not get him to go alone, and whenever we heard any of the strange noises mentioned above.he used to tremble with fear.He would crouch down behind me, and beg of me to turn back; his alarm ceasing only after he had made a charm to protect us from the Curupira.For this purpose, he took a young palm leaf, plaited it, and formed it into a ring, which he hung to a branch on our track.
At length, after a six hour walk, we arrived at our destination, the last mile or two having been again through second-growth forest.The mills formed a large pile of buildings, pleasantly situated in a cleared tract of land, many acres in extent, and everywhere surrounded by the perpetual forest.We were received in the kindest manner by the overseer, Mr.Leavens, who showed us all that was interesting about the place, and took us to the best spots in the neighbourhood for birds and insects.
The mills were built a long time ago by a wealthy Brazilian.They had belonged to Mr.Upton for many years.I was told that when the dark-skinned revolutionists were preparing for their attack on Para, they occupied the place, but not the slightest injury was done to the machinery or building, for the leaders said it was against the Portuguese and their party that they were at war, not against the other foreigners.
The Iritiri Creek at the mills is only a few yards wide; it winds about between two lofty walls of forest for some distance, then becomes much broader, and finally joins the Magoary.There are many other ramifications, creeks or channels, which lead to retired hamlets and scattered houses, inhabited by people of mixed white, Indian, and negro descent.Many of them did business with Mr.Leavens, bringing for sale their little harvests of rice, or a few logs of timber.It was interesting to see them in their little, heavily-laden montarias.Sometimes the boats were managed by handsome, healthy young lads, loosely clad in a straw hat, white shirt, and dark blue trousers, turned up to the knee.
They steered, paddled, and managed the varejao (the boating pole), with much grace and dexterity.
