I had received somewhat of a shock in the morning on passing the principal church—there were five or six in Goyaz. Spread out upon the pavement was the life-size wooden figure of our Saviour—which had evidently long been stored in a damp cellar—much mildewed and left there in the sun in preparation for the evening performance. The red wig of real hair, with its crown of thorns, had been removed and was drying upon a convenient neighbouring shrub! Really, those people of Goyaz were an amusing mixture of simplicity and superstition.
One great redeeming point of the people of Goyaz was that they were extremely charitable. They had erected a huge building as a workhouse. It was entirely supported by charity. A small library had also been established.
As I have elsewhere stated, I needed for my expedition no less than thirty men, so that they could, if necessary, carry all my instruments, cameras, provisions, ammunition, etc., where animals could not get through.
Fourteen long and tedious days elapsed in Goyaz. No one could be induced to come. In despair I sent a despatch to the Minister of Agriculture, asking for the loan of at least four soldiers—whom I should naturally have paid out of my own pocket, as I had duly explained to the Presidente, who backed my request. To my regret I received a reply from the Minister of War saying that at that moment the Government could not possibly spare four soldiers. It must be said that, although the men of Goyaz did not shine for their bravery, it was not so with the ladies, several of whom offered, if necessary, to accompany the expedition and do, of course, the work of the men. I believe that they meant it.
I have, indeed, the greatest respect and admiration for the noble self-sacrifice of the women of Goyaz. Devoted mothers and wives, to men who deserved no devotion at all—nearly all the men had concubines—gentle, humble, thoughtful, simple and hard-working, they did all the work in the house. They were a great contrast to the lazy, conceited, vain male portion of the population. Certainly, in a population of 10,000 people, I met two or three men who deserved respect, but they were the exception.
If the men were so timid, it was not altogether their fault; they could not help it. It was enough to look at them to see that no great feats of bravery could be expected of them. They were under-developed, exhausted, eaten up by the most terrible complaint of the blood. The lives in which they merely vegetated were without any mental stimulus. Many suffered from goître, others had chests that were pitiful to look at, so under-developed were they; all continually complained, every time you spoke to them, of headache, toothache, backache, or some other ache. They were always dissatisfied with life and with the world at large, and had no energy whatever to try and improve their condition. They were extremely polite; they had a conventional code of good manners, to which, they adhered faithfully—but that was all.
Some of Author's Pack Animals.
At the end of the fourteen days in Goyaz I had been able to purchase a good number of mules and horses—at a very high price, as the people would not otherwise part with their quadrupeds. Also I had collected all the riding and pack saddles and harness necessary, a sufficient quantity of spare shoes for the animals, a number of large saws, axes, picks and spades, large knives for cutting our way through the forest, and every possible implement necessary on a journey of the kind I was about to undertake. Everything was ready—except the men!
