The pilot was an old Tapuyo of Para, with regular oval face and well-shaped features.I was astonished at his endurance.He never quitted the helm night or day, except for two or three hours in the morning.The other Indians used to bring him his coffee and meals, and after breakfast one of them relieved him for a time, when he used to lie down on the quarterdeck and get his two hours nap.The Indians forward had things pretty much their own way.No system of watches was followed; when any one was so disposed, he lay down on the deck and went to sleep; but a feeling of good fellowship seemed always to exist amongst them.One of them was a fine specimen of the Indian race-- a man just short of six feet high, with remarkable breadth of shoulder and full muscular chest.His comrades called him the commandant, on account of his having been one of the rebel leaders when the Indians and others took Santarem in 1835.They related of him that, when the legal authorities arrived with an armed flotilla to recapture the town, he was one of the last to quit, remaining in the little fortress which commands the place to make a show of loading the guns, although the ammunition had given out long ago.Such were our travelling companions.We lived almost the same as on board ship.
Our meals were cooked in the galley; but, where practicable, and during our numerous stoppages, the men went in the montaria to fish near the shore, so that our breakfasts and dinners of salt pirarucu were sometimes varied with fresh food.
September 24th--We passed Entre-as-Ilhas with the morning tide yesterday, and then made across to the eastern shore--the starting-point for all canoes which have to traverse the broad mouth of the Tocantins going west.Early this morning we commenced the passage.The navigation is attended with danger on account of the extensive shoals in the middle of the river, which are covered only by a small depth of water at this season of the year.The wind was fresh, and the schooner rolled and pitched like a ship at sea.The distance was about fifteen miles.In the middle, the river-view was very imposing.Towards the northeast there was a long sweep of horizon clear of land, and on the southwest stretched a similar boundless expanse, but varied with islets clothed with fan-leaved palms, which, however, were visible only as isolated groups of columns, tufted at the top, rising here and there amidst the waste of waters.In the afternoon we rounded the westernmost point; the land, which is not terra firma, but simply a group of large islands forming a portion of the Tocantins delta, was then about three miles distant.
On the following day (25th) we sailed towards the west, along the upper portion of the Para estuary, which extends seventy miles beyond the mouth of the Tocantins.It varies in width from three to five miles, but broadens rapidly near its termination, where it is eight or nine miles wide.The northern shore is formed by the island of Marajo, and is slightly elevated and rocky in some parts.A series of islands conceals the southern shore from view most of the way.The whole country, mainland and islands, is covered with forest.We had a good wind all day, and about 7 p.m.
entered the narrow river of Breves, which commences abruptly the extensive labyrinth of channels that connects the Para with the Amazons.The sudden termination of the Para at a point where it expands to so great a breadth is remarkable; the water, however, is very shallow over the greater portion of the expanse.Inoticed both on this and on the three subsequent occasions of passing this place in ascending and descending the river, that the flow of the tide from the east along the estuary, as well as up the Breves, was very strong.This seems sufficient to prove that no considerable volume of water passes by this medium from the Amazons to the Para, and that the opinion of those geographers is an incorrect one, who believe the Para to be one of the mouths of the great river.There is, however, another channel connecting the two rivers, which enters the Para six miles to the south of the Breves.The lower part of its course for eighteen miles is formed by the Uanapu, a large and independent river flowing from the south.The tidal flow is said by the natives to produce little or no current up this river--a fact which seems to afford a little support to the view just stated.
We passed the village of Breves at 3 p.m.on the 26th.It consists of about forty houses, most of which are occupied by Portuguese shopkeepers.A few Indian families reside here, who occupy themselves with the manufacture of ornamental pottery and painted cuyas, which they sell to traders or passing travellers.
The cuyas--drinking-cups made from gourds--are sometimes very tastefully painted.The rich black ground colour is produced by a dye made from the bark of a tree called Comateu, the gummy nature of which imparts a fine polish.The yellow tints are made with the Tabatinga clay; the red with the seeds of the Urucu, or anatto plant; and the blue with indigo, which is planted round the huts.The art is indigenous with the Amazonian Indians, but it is only the settled agricultural tribes belonging to the Tupi stock who practise it.
September 27th-30th.--After passing Breves, we continued our way slowly along a channel, or series of channels, of variable width.
