FOOTNOTES:
[11] Governor's Island.
[12] Independence or death.
CHAPTER VIII
A GALA DAY IN RIO
In the fortnight which followed the four cousins became very well acquainted with each other. Maria soon lost her shyness, and taught the others many new games and sports, while they in turn taught her the Brazilian ones which her father had played when a boy at home.
The little Brazilians found their North American cousin very interesting. She was different from them in many ways and they never tired of hearing her tell of things in the United States. Although admiring her father's country very much, she was devoted to her mother's as well, and could never be made to admit that things were better in South America than they were in the north.
"Come, children," said the Senhora Lopez one morning, "this is the day of the inauguration. The President himself has given your father tickets, for they are great friends and we must all be ready early so as to escape the crowd."
"Indeed, mamma," said Martim, "I think the crowd's the greatest fun of all. I shall never forget the procession the day of the parade in honour of your Senhor Root, Maria. It was one of the finest we ever had in Rio."
"I wish I had seen it," said Maria. "When our President is inaugurated we have grand processions in Washington. My grandfather took me to the last one, and it was splendid."
"Our inauguration procession is fine, too. You will see to-day that they know how to do things down here as well as you do," said Martim, as they started for the reviewing-stand.
"I don't doubt that," said Maria pleasantly. "But I can't quite make out why you have a President at all. Brazil used to be an empire and have a splendid emperor. You showed me his statue in the park. What became of him?"
"The last emperor of Brazil is dead, my child," said her uncle. "He died in Paris in 1891, some said of a broken heart, because he had been sent away from his beloved Brazil."
"Why did you send him away; wasn't he a good man?" asked Maria.
"Yes, indeed, very good, and many of the people were very fond of him," was the reply. "He was always interested in the people and tried to arrange the laws for their best interests. He was very democratic and travelled about a great deal, keeping his eyes wide open to learn everything which might help his people. He even went to your United States at the time of the Centennial in Philadelphia."
"If he was so good, why did they send him away?" asked Maria puzzled.
"It is rather hard to explain politics to little folk," said her uncle, smiling.
"Some of the Brazilians wanted to have a republic like the United States, for they thought that country was so prosperous that they wanted Brazil to be like it.
"The people thought that the United States had progressed more rapidly and was more prosperous than Brazil and they did not see why their own land should not be as great or greater than any other American country. Brazil was the only South American country which was not a republic. I think the chief reason, however, was that the heir to the throne was not at all liked, and the Brazilians were afraid that he would not be as wise a ruler as Dom Pedro had been. Even those who most wanted a republic were sorry to have the old emperor expelled, and many of them cried bitterly when he went away."
"I should think they might have waited until he died," said Maria. "If he was old he wouldn't have lived long, and then they needn't have had his heir whom they didn't like. I do not think it was nice at all to send him away when he had always been good and kind."
"If it had been in the United States you would have shot him, like you do your Presidents, wouldn't you?" asked Affonzo mischievously, for he loved to tease his cousin.
"We have only had three Presidents killed out of twenty-six," said Maria. "How many of yours have been assassinated?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Affonzo, rather taken aback at the quickness of her retort.
"In the early days," said Uncle Hilario, "before the republic was very firmly established, the Presidents used to have to be taken from the army so they could fight to keep their positions. Now, however, things are quieter and we do not have to have our ruler backed by sword and guns."
"Here we are at the grand stand. The music is just beginning to draw near. Hurrah! There come the soldiers!" cried Affonzo. "Aren't they fine-looking fellows!"
"What gorgeous uniforms they have!" cried Lola, and Maria exclaimed,
"Aren't the plumed horses splendid!" And they chattered all at once till their uncle fairly covered his ears with his hands.
They had a good look at the two Presidents—President Campos-Salles whose term of office was just over, and Affonzo Penna who was the new President—and returned home quite excited with the events of the morning.
Next day they had planned an excursion to the top of Corcovado, that beautiful mountain which rises above Rio, serene and lofty, toward the clouds, and all was excitement as the little party started off.
"Think of having mamma with us!" cried Lola. "Uncle Hilario, have you and mamma been up the mountain before?"
"I should say we had," he laughed, then turning to his sister, "Do you remember the time we were caught in the terrible storm?"
"It was a terrific cloud burst, but we didn't mind it," she said, laughing too. "In those days climbing Corcovado was something of a feat. There was no cog-wheel railway as there is to-day but only a bridle-path. We had to start long before daybreak and climb up the side of the mountain. We had to take servants along to carry provisions and there was always a large party going.
"The time your uncle speaks of, he and I got separated from the rest of the party going down and we came near losing our way entirely. There came up a terrible storm and when we finally arrived at home an hour after the others we were drenched to the skin, and they had sent people out to hunt for us.
"It is a very different thing to-day to go up the mountain seated in a carriage, find a café at the top, and have nothing to do but look at the sights as we pass. They are well worth looking at! See! There is the bay, its water as blue as the sky, and you get a fine view of the old aqueduct."
"I wondered what that was," said Maria. "It looks like the pictures I have seen of the Campagna at Rome. Is it made of stone?"
"Yes," said her uncle. "It was built of stone nearly two hundred years ago and is over four miles long. In some places its arches are over sixty feet high and it is as strong as when it was built. Through it passes all the water drunk in Rio, and is so delicious that we have a saying 'Who has drunk of the waters of Carioca can drink no other water,' and 'When you have drunk of the water of Carioca, you can live nowhere else but here.'"
"When Rio people speak of the friends who have lived in Rio they say, 'He is a Cariocan.'"
"Then mamma is a Cariocan!" cried Lola, and Maria added,
"And my father, too."
"It seems to almost walk across the chasm," said Affonzo. "Where does the water come from?"
"When we reach the top of the mountain, I will show you," said his uncle. "See those magnificent waterfalls and cascades! The scenery around here is as fine as any in Brazil."
"It is almost as nice as the White Mountains at home," said Maria wickedly. She loved to stir up her cousins and knew that to compare anything with the States always provoked a discussion. This time her remarks were met with a storm of protest, at which she only laughed naughtily.
"I don't believe you have such trees," said Lola at last. "There are mangoes, tamarinds, bread-fruits, bananas, cocoa trees, oranges and palms all growing together. Aren't they splendid?"
"Yes, indeed," said Maria. "And the flowers are simply gorgeous. Those trees with the flowering vine all draped around them and hanging down in long racemes are as beautiful as anything I ever saw."
"Here we are at the end of the railway," said Martim. "Now for a climb."
It was but a short distance to the top, and the children hurried along, followed more slowly by their elders.
"Here we are at last," said the Senhor as they reached the top. "Now you can see seventy miles, for there is Organ Mount fifty miles away, and yonder is Cape Frio, which is seventy miles away."
"Among the mountain peaks there lies the sea of gold," said Uncle Hilario. "There is a tale told that in the early Portuguese days in Brazil a murderer, who had been condemned to death, escaped from prison and fled to the hills. He wandered about, fed only by the bounty of the forest and at last he discovered the Lake of Gold. From its shining sands he made a fortune, and returned in two years to Rio to buy his pardon."
"The Lake of Gold," said Affonzo. "I wonder if that is where the Gilded Man washed himself."
"Who was the Gilded Man?" asked Maria.
"It's an Indian story Vicente told me," said Affonzo.
"Do tell it to me," she said, and he told her the quaint tale with which she was delighted.
They lunched in picnic fashion on the grass and had a merry time, resting afterwards while the Senhora and Uncle Hilario told them stories of old days in Brazil. At last it came time to return and the two boys, after whispering together went to their uncle with a request.
"May we not walk down?" Martim asked. "We won't get lost and we want to do what you and mother did."
"Oh, do let us!" cried Maria, who always wanted to do every thing the boys did, but the Senhora shook her head. At last it was arranged that Uncle Hilario should walk down with the boys, while the girls went discreetly home in the train with the Senhora. The boys were jubilant.
"See the ships, uncle," cried Affonzo as they looked across the bay to the broad Atlantic. "They are just over the horizon line. What's that puff of smoke for?" as a puff came from a ship nearing the harbour.
"Watch the fort," said the Senhor, and there another puff was seen. "Eyes are better than ears at this range. That was a salute from the ship answered by the guns from the fort. We can see the smoke, but cannot hear the report.
"Here is the source of Carioca. The name is from an Indian word, Kaa-ry-og, and means 'the house of the streams from the woods.' See how the stream is shaded by these giant trees? That is what makes it so cold. The water flows amidst all manner of sweet-smelling aromatic plants, and goes into an aqueduct full of pleasant scents. It is said to have some medicinal qualities."
"It is nice enough here to cure any sickness," said Martim, and they went slowly on down the mountain, following the same bridle-path which their uncle had followed so many years before, reaching home without any accident, tired but delighted with the tramp.
CHAPTER IX
THE COFFEE PLANTATION
The Senhor Lopez' business was to export coffee, as that of his brother-in-law was to export rubber. He had a large coffee fazenda in Sao Paulo, the province of Brazil most devoted to coffee raising, and he often went there to inspect the plantation. He suggested therefore that his wife, his sister, and the children should spend a week with him at the fazenda, and the two mothers decided to do so, knowing how much pleasure it would give the little folk. It was an all day's ride to Sao Paulo, but there was so much to see as the train moved over the plains, across rivers and through forests and hills, that the children did not find it tiresome, and were very bright and gay as, just at sunset, they neared Sao Paulo.
"This is one of the finest cities of Brazil," said their uncle. "Ten years ago it was not a large place but now it has three hundred thousand people, many beautiful buildings, electric lights and trolley cars. It has also some very good schools and colleges, and students come here from all parts of the country. Perhaps Affonzo will go to college here some day."
"It seems a good ways from home," said the boy. "But uncle," he added, as they passed a crowd of queer looking people in the station, "what a lot of foreigners there are here!"
"Yes, more than in any other Brazilian city. A number of Italians work in the mills and on the farms, and the Germans are on the coffee plantations.
"To-night we will rest, and to-morrow morning we will see Sao Paulo, and in the afternoon go to the fazenda," said the Senhor, as they reached the hotel.
The next day they had a pleasant drive through the city and saw many interesting things.
"Mackenzie College is one of the best seats of learning in Brazil," said the uncle. "It is on the plan of the North American colleges, with kindergarten, primary grades and grammar school. There is also a normal school and a manual training shop."
"You see, you have to copy us," said Maria with a laugh. "All the schools in the States are good. You ought to live there."
Martim made a wry face.
"Maybe they are," he said, "but I don't believe I'd care to live in the States just on account of the schools when I can live here, and have a school just as good."
"Children!" said Martim's mother, but his father hastily interposed,
"Mackenzie College is named for Mr. John G. Mackenzie, of New York City, who gave a large sum of money to build it. But here we are at the Garden of Light. Now you may get out of the carriage and rest yourselves by running about these magnificent alleys of trees, seeing the lakes and fountains."
"Maria and Martim do not get along as well as the little girl and Affonzo," he said to his wife, as soon as the children were out of sight.
"It doesn't matter," she said serenely. "It does not hurt either of them to argue if it doesn't go too far. Children are far better for not being noticed. Affonzo gets along better with his cousin because he has Lola to quarrel with; Martim grows selfish from being too much alone." She sighed and her husband's face clouded as he thought of the children they had lost.
"We will keep Maria with us if the father is willing, as long as she is in Brazil."
"Better still, let both Maria and Martim return home with us," said the Senhora Dias. "Then all four young folk will learn to accommodate themselves to each other."
"That is an excellent plan, and it is kind in you to suggest it," said the Senhora Lopez, and her husband added,
"We shall try to arrange it that way."
"Come, children," he called a few minutes later. "We must return for lunch now as we drive to the fazenda afterwards. Do you know what we old folk have been planning?"
"No, papa, what is it?" asked Martim.
"Something pleasant, I am sure," said Lola. "For you are the dearest uncle in the world."
"Thank you, little flatterer," he pinched her cheek playfully. "It is that you four cousins are all to return to Para for the winter."
"Oh, delightful," cried Lola.
"How nice!" Maria said, and the boys seemed equally pleased.
The afternoon air was clear and bracing, and the children were in high spirits as the party drove to the fazenda.
The road wound through a beautiful country, past vineyards, and tea and coffee plantations, for Sao Paulo is one of the most productive provinces of Brazil. As they passed row after row of small trees Lola said,
"What pretty, glossy leaves those trees have!"
"Those are coffee trees," said Martim. "They grow about twelve feet tall."
"But where are the brown berries," asked Maria. "Are they all picked?"
Martim laughed.
"It's easy to see that you've never seen coffee growing," he said. "Did you think you could go and pick the browned berries and stew a pot of coffee?"
"No," said Maria demurely, "because we don't 'stew' coffee where I live."
Everybody laughed at this passage-at-arms between the two children, and Senhor Lopez said,
"We are beginning to see trees belonging to our plantation now. It is three miles square and we have just reached the edge of the land. The house is still three miles away."
"How does the coffee grow, Uncle Hilario?" asked Maria.
"Do you see the cluster of green pods on the trees, my dear? Well, seeds are within the pods, and when they are ripened must be dried, roasted and ground before they are ready for your coffee-pot. Later in the season the fruit turns bright red in colour, and makes a vivid contrast to the foliage of the trees, which is green the year around."
"Are the trees planted, or do they grow wild like our rubber trees?" asked Affonzo.
"They are planted in rows and sometimes grow as high as twenty-five feet. Usually they are between ten and fifteen feet high when they first bear fruit," said the Senhor. "It takes from three to five years for them to bear."
"When is the harvest time?" asked Maria.
"We have two crops so there are two harvests, one in February and one in August. Sometimes you see fruit and flowers on the same tree at the same time. The blossoms grow in little white bunches and are very fragrant."
"I should think it would take a lot of people to pick all this coffee," said Affonzo.
"It does. If you were to be here next February you would see hundreds of negroes and Italians, men, women, and children, busy up and down these long rows. Many of them live in those little houses," he said, pointing to a street lined with small wooden huts crowded close together. About the houses were scores of small, dark-skinned children at play.
"At the present time," said the Senhor, "the men and women are at work in the sheds and ware-houses making the coffee ready for market. We shall ship thousands of pounds next month. To-morrow I will take you about and show you what we have to do. I wish you might have been here during the harvest season. It is very interesting to watch the pickers with the huge baskets strapped to their shoulders. There is great rivalry among them to see who can be the fastest picker on the place."
Before they reached the fazenda their carriage passed through two gates which closed after them with a spring, and the Senhor said,
"The fazenda factory is always enclosed by one and sometimes two fences, for the cattle graze loose with only a pickaninny or the madrinla[13] to watch them."
"It looks like a fortress," said Maria.
"Yes, and some fazendas are called 'fortaleza' for that very reason," said her uncle.
"It is really very much like the old fortresses of feudal times, within the walls of which went on all manner of things. Inside the fazenda palisades there are the houses of the labourers, apothecary's shop, hospital, ware-houses, and terrerios,[14] besides the house of the owner."
"Why are there so few trees?" asked Lola.
"Nearly all the trees are cut down to make pasture lands and only a few shade trees are left, such as those fine palms. Here we are at the house. When you are rested I will take you about and show you how the coffee is made ready for market."