On emerging from the Uituquara on the 2nd, we all went ashore--the men to fish in a small creek; Joao da Cunha and I to shoot birds.We saw a flock of scarlet and blue macaws (Macrocercus Macao) feeding on the fruits of a Bacaba palm, and looking like a cluster of flaunting banners beneath its dark-green crown.We landed about fifty yards from the place, and crept cautiously through the forest, but before we reached them they flew off with loud harsh screams.At a wild fruit tree we were more successful, as my companion shot an anaca (Derotypus coronatus), one of the most beautiful of the parrot family.It is of a green colour, and has a hood of feathers, red bordered with blue, at the back of its head, which it can elevate or depress at pleasure.The anaca is the only new-world parrot which nearly resembles the cockatoo of Australia.It is found in all the lowlands throughout the Amazons region, but is not a common bird anywhere.Few persons succeed in taming it, and I never saw one that had been taught to speak.The natives are very fond of the bird nevertheless, and keep it in their houses for the sake of seeing the irascible creature expand its beautiful frill of feathers, which it readily does when excited.
The men returned with a large quantity of fish.I was surprised at the great variety of species; the prevailing kind was a species of Loricaria, a foot in length, and wholly encased in bony armour.It abounds at certain seasons in shallow water.The flesh is dry, but very palatable.They brought also a small alligator, which they called Jacare curua, and said it was a kind found only in shallow creeks.It was not more than two feet in length, although full-grown according to the statement of the Indians, who said it was a "mai d'ovos," or mother of eggs, as they had pillaged the nest, which they had found near the edge of the water.The eggs were rather larger than a hen's, and regularly oval in shape, presenting a rough hard surface of shell.Unfortunately, the alligator was cut up ready for cooking when we returned to the schooner, and I could not therefore make a note of its peculiarities.The pieces were skewered and roasted over the fire, each man being his own cook.I never saw this species of alligator afterwards.
October 3rd--About midnight the wind, for which we had long been waiting, sprang up; the men weighed anchor, and we were soon fairly embarked on the Amazons.I rose long before sunrise to see the great river by moonlight.There was a spanking breeze, and the vessel was bounding gaily over the waters.The channel along which we were sailing was only a narrow arm of the river, about two miles in width: the total breadth at this point is more than twenty miles, but the stream is divided into three parts by a series of large islands.The river, notwithstanding this limitation of its breadth, had a most majestic appearance.It did not present that lake-like aspect which the waters of the Para and Tocantins affect, but had all the swing, so to speak, of a vast flowing stream.The ochre-coloured turbid waters offered also a great contrast to the rivers belonging to the Para system.
The channel formed a splendid reach, sweeping from southwest to northeast, with a horizon of water and sky both upstream and down.At 11 a.m.we arrived at Gurupa, a small village situated on a rocky bank thirty or forty feet high.Here we landed, and Ihad an opportunity of rambling in the neighbouring woods, which are intersected by numerous pathways, and carpeted with Lycopodia growing to a height of eight or ten inches, and enlivened by numbers of glossy blue butterflies of the Theclidae or hairstreak family.At 5 p.m.we were again under way.Soon after sunset, as we were crossing the mouth of the Xingu, the first of the great tributaries of the Amazons, 1200 miles in length, a black cloud arose suddenly in the northeast.Joao da Cunha ordered all sails to be taken in, and immediately afterwards a furious squall burst forth, tearing the waters into foam, and producing a frightful uproar in the neighbouring forests.A drenching rain followed, but in half an hour all was again calm and the full moon appeared sailing in a cloudless sky.
From the mouth of the Xingu the route followed by vessels leads straight across the river, here ten miles broad.Towards midnight the wind failed us, when we were close to a large shoal called the Baixo Grande.We lay here becalmed in the sickening heat for two days, and when the trade-wind recommenced with the rising moon at 10 p.m.on the 6th, we found ourselves on a ice-shore.
Notwithstanding all the efforts of our pilot to avoid it, we ran aground.Fortunately the bottom consisted only of soft mud, so that by casting anchor to windward, and hauling in with the whole strength of crew and passengers, we got off after spending an uncomfortable night.We rounded the point of the shoal in two fathoms' water; the head of the vessel was then put westward, and by sunrise we were bounding forward before a steady breeze, all sail set and everybody in good humour.
The weather was now delightful for several days in succession, the air transparently clear, and the breeze cool and invigorating.At daylight, on the 6th, a chain of blue hills, the Serra de Almeyrim, appeared in the distance on the north bank of the river.The sight was most exhilarating after so long a sojourn in a flat country.We kept to the southern shore, passing in the course of the day the mouths of the Urucuricaya and the Aquiqui, two channels which communicate with the Xingu.The whole of this southern coast hence to near Santarem, a distance of 130miles, is lowland and quite uninhabited.It is intersected by short arms or back waters of the Amazons, which are called in the Tupi language Paranamirims, or little rivers.By keeping to these, small canoes can travel a great part of the distance without being much exposed to the heavy seas of the main river.
