Brazil, the Amazons and the coast . bout the town, anEnglish sailor or miner, or Jack-of-all-trades, named of dried fish and a basket of farinha are stowed underthe tolda, with sugar and coffee, and sundry boxes of biscuitsand cans of preserves for our own use; these, with ourtrunks and the mens bundles, fill the little space the last moment one of the men comes down with a greatbasket of oranges and bananas, which are stowed in the bowwith our less perishable luggage. THE TAPAJOS. 227 Adeosf shouts Ricardo ; Dunn sees a mulatto beautyon the beach and flings back a las
Brazil, the Amazons and the coast . bout the town, anEnglish sailor or miner, or Jack-of-all-trades, named of dried fish and a basket of farinha are stowed underthe tolda, with sugar and coffee, and sundry boxes of biscuitsand cans of preserves for our own use; these, with ourtrunks and the mens bundles, fill the little space the last moment one of the men comes down with a greatbasket of oranges and bananas, which are stowed in the bowwith our less perishable luggage. THE TAPAJOS. 227 Adeosf shouts Ricardo ; Dunn sees a mulatto beautyon the beach and flings back a last sarcasm. The two In-dians take their paddles with smiles on their dull, good-na-tured faces ; and so we push off into the bright water. It isfour oclock ; Santarem is just waking from its afternoon nap,and there is a subdued bustle about the streets and away from the white walls and beach, the oppositeshore is in strong contrast ; green varzea meadows, withclumps of trees at the waters edge. No houses are visible in. Trie Embarkation. this direction. Cattle are pastured on the meadows, butthey are out of sight behind the bushes ; we see only therich lights and shadows, stretching down to the Amazons. The Tapajos, opposite Santarem, is rather less than three-fourths of a mile wide, but it is very deep ; no less than onehundred and thirty feet in some places. There is very littlecurrent: it seems more a lake than a river, with the clearwater and the wide reaches above. Here and there, the sur- 228 BRAZIL. face is marked with green streaks, millions of little particles poison the water in the dry season, and makeit unfit for drinking. Probably they are confervoid growthsthat accumulate in pools above the rapids. There is a smart breeze from the east. Ricardo has thesail- up directly, and our little craft dashes along gloriouslyover the ripples. In fifteen minutes we have run past thePoint of Mapiri,* conspicuous for its lime-works. Now welose sight
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