Raimundo then took the image of St.Thome from one of the party, and placed it by the side of Nossa Senhora in his own oratorio, a little decorated box in which every family keeps its household gods, finally lighting a couple of wax candles before it.Shortly afterwards a cloth was laid on a mat, and all the guests were invited to supper.The fare was very scanty-- a boiled fowl with rice, a slice of roasted pirarucu, farinha, and bananas.Each one partook very sparingly, some of the young men contenting themselves with a plateful of rice.One of the apprentices stood behind with a bowl of water and a towel, with which each guest washed his fingers and rinsed his mouth after the meal.They stayed all night-- the large open shed was filled with hammocks, which were slung from pole to pole; and upon retiring, Raimundo gave orders for their breakfast in the morning.
Raimundo called me at two o'clock, when we embarked (he, his older apprentice Joaquim, and myself) in a shady place where it was so dark that I could see neither canoe nor water, taking with us five dogs.We glided down a winding creek where huge trunks of trees slanted across close overhead, and presently emerged into the Murucupi.A few yards further on we entered the broader channel of the Aitituba.This we crossed, and entered another narrow creek on the opposite side.Here the ebb-tide was against us, and we had great difficulty in making progress.After we had struggled against the powerful current a distance of two miles, we came to a part where the ebb-tide ran in the opposite direction, showing that we had crossed the watershed.The tide flows into this channel or creek at both ends simultaneously, and meets in the middle, although there is apparently no difference of level, and the breadth of the water is the same.The tides are extremely intricate throughout all the infinite channels and creeks which intersect the lands of the Amazons delta.
The moon now broke forth and lighted up the trunks of colossal trees, the leaves of monstrous Jupati palms which arched over the creek, and revealed groups of arborescent arums standing like rows of spectres on its banks.We had a glimpse now and then into the black depths of the forest, where all was silent except the shrill stridulation of wood-crickets.Now and then a sudden plunge in the water ahead would startle us, caused by heavy fruit or some nocturnal animal dropping from the trees.The two Indians here rested on their paddles and allowed the canoe to drift with the tide.A pleasant perfume came from the forest, which Raimundo said proceeded from a cane-field.He told me that all this land was owned by large proprietors at Para, who had received grants from time to time from the Government for political services.
Raimundo was quite in a talkative humour; he related to me many incidents of the time of the "Cabanagem," as the revolutionary days of 1835-6 are popularly called.He said he had been much suspected himself of being a rebel, but declared that the suspicion was unfounded.The only complaint he had to make against the white man was that he monopolised the land without having any intention or prospect of cultivating it.He had been turned out of one place where he had squatted and cleared a large piece of forest.I believe the law of Brazil at this time was that the new lands should become the property of those who cleared and cultivated them, if their right was not disputed within a given term of years by some one who claimed the proprietorship.This land-law has since been repealed, and a new one adopted founded on that of the United States.Raimundo spoke of his race as the redskins, "pelle vermelho." They meant well to the whites, and only begged to be let alone."God," he said, "had given room enough for us all."It was pleasant to hear the shrewd good-natured fellow talk in this strain.Our companion, Joaquim, had fallen asleep; the night air was cool, and the moonlight lit up the features of Raimundo, revealing a more animated expression than is usually observable in Indian countenances.I always noticed that Indians were more cheerful on a voyage, especially in the cool hours of night and morning, than when ashore.There is something in their constitution of body which makes them feel excessively depressed in the hot hours of the day, especially inside their houses.
Their skin is always hot to the touch.They certainly do not endure the heat of their own climate so well as the whites.The negroes are totally different in this respect; the heat of midday has very little effect on them, and they dislike the cold nights on the river.
