We had a beautiful sky—perfectly clear—on May 28th, except perhaps a faint curtain of mist near the horizon to the west. Two of my horses had unfortunately strayed; and as the men searched the matto with trembling knees in fear of meeting a bandeira instead of the missing horses, they were not recovered until late in the afternoon, so that we did not depart until 4 p.m.
We went up to the top of an undulation (elev. 2,400 ft.), on grey ashes as usual in the lower part of the hill, and red volcanic sand on the summit. That afternoon's journey was not unlike tobogganing up and down all the time—at elevations varying from 2,500 to 2,350 ft.—over domes of sand, ashes, and eruptive rock, and dykes with depressions, some 100 ft. deep or so, and all extending from north to south.
We saw some gorgeous red araras or macaws of giant size. They were a beautiful sight as they flew, with their hoarse shrieks, above our heads.
At sunset we were travelling along the north edge of a great grassy depression wooded in its central pit—the line of depression and of the central vegetation being from north to south.
Mushroom-shaped Rocks of Volcanic Formation.
A Great Earthquake Fissure in the Terrestrial Crust (Matto Grosso).