My young German companion, a traveller for a commercial house, was returning from a visit to the interior of Brazil. By steamer on the Paranà and Paraguay he had gone from Buenos Ayres to Cuyabà, the capital of the province of Matto Grosso, a vast region with undefined boundaries, probably larger than most of the European states. I have often been struck by the results of superior education among Germans engaged in business, as compared with men of the same class in other countries. It is not that they often merit the designation of intellectual men, and still more rarely do they show active interest in scientific inquiry; but they retain a respect for the studies they have abandoned, are ready to talk intelligently on such subjects, and, as a rule, have a regard for accuracy as to facts which is so uncommon in the world, as much because the majority are too ignorant to appreciate their importance as owing to deliberate disregard of truth. I did not learn much as to the progress of inner Brazil, but my fellow-traveller mentioned a few particulars that had struck him as singular. He found the civil population of Cuyabà solicitous in their adherence to European fashions in dress, and, as a special note of respectability, the men always appearing in what are vulgarly called chimneypot hats. The current coin in all but small transactions consisted in English sovereigns, but he was unable to explain how these have reached a region which can have so few commercial relations with this country. He departed on the following morning, while I resolved to spend a day in visiting the neighbourhood of the city.
Although San Paulo lies exactly on the southern tropic, the winter climate is positively cool, and at sunrise on July 6 the thermometer stood at 58° Fahr. On a rough estimate from a single barometric observation it stands about 2400 feet above the sea. Its appearance was altogether unlike that of all the towns seen in Spanish America. The somewhat wearisome monotony of regular square blocks gave place to the irregular arrangement of some of the provincial towns in England, several streets running out into the country and ending in detached villas. The general impression was that of comfort and prosperity. Several well-appointed private carriages were seen in the streets, and the shops were as good as one commonly sees in a European town of the same class.
I was much interested by the short country excursion, which occupied most of the day, and by an aspect of vegetation entirely new to me. The plants, with scarcely an exception, belonged to genera prevailing in tropical America, many of them now seen by me for the first time; but the species were nearly all different from those of the coast region, and the general aspect of the flora still more markedly different. There was no trace of that luxuriance which we commonly expect in tropical vegetation; monocotyledonous plants, except grasses, were very few, and, in place of the large ferns that abounded at Santos, I found but a single Gleichenia, allied to a species that I had gathered in the Straits of Magellan.
FLORA OF THE BRAZILIAN PLATEAU.
Although a fair number of plants were still in flower, I soon came to the conclusion that night frosts must be not unfrequent at this season, and that a considerable proportion of the vegetation must be annually renewed. I found several groups of small trees, chiefly of the laurel family, and for the first time saw the Araucaria brasiliensis, possibly in a wild state; but none of the trees attained considerable height, and I doubt whether in a state of nature this plateau has ever been a forest region. I was rejoiced to see again, growing in some abundance, the splendid Bignonia venusta, and was led to doubt whether its real home may not be in the interior, and its appearance at Santos due to introduction by man.
We possess a fair amount of information as to the climate of the Brazilian coasts, but our knowledge of the meteorology of the interior provinces is miserably scanty. I was led to conjecture that, although the district surrounding San Paulo is not divided by a mountain range from the neighbouring coast region, the climate must be very much drier, and that the rainfall is mainly limited to the summer season.
In the course of my walk, I unexpectedly approached a country house about three miles from the town, and was somewhat surprised by meeting a carriage with ladies on their way to the house. As far as my experience has gone in the country parts of Portugal or Spain, such an encounter would there be regarded as a very unusual phenomenon.
The railway from San Paulo to Rio Janeiro appears to be a well-managed and prosperous concern, paying to its shareholders dividends of from ten to twelve per cent. The distance is about 380 miles, and the trains perform the distance in about thirteen and a half hours. Leaving my hotel in the dark, I found at the station a crowd of passengers contending for tickets; but good order was maintained, and we started punctually at six o’clock. For some way the line is carried at an apparent level over the plain, with occasional distant views of high hills to the north, and crosses two or three inconsiderable streams, whose waters run to the Paranà. A slight but continuous ascent, scarcely noticed by the passing, traveller, leads to the watershed which, in this direction, limits the vast basin of the Paranà. After a long but very gentle descent, we reached a stream flowing westward. I at first supposed it, like those already seen, to be a tributary of the Paranà which made its way through some depression in the low ridge over which we had passed; but I soon ascertained that this was an error. Near the spot where the railway crosses it, the stream makes a sharp turn, and thenceforth proceeds in a direction little north of east for about four hundred miles, till it falls into the Atlantic at São João da Barra, north-east of Rio Janeiro. This is the Rio Parahyba do Sul, not to be confounded with the Rio Parahyba north of Pernambuco, nor yet with the more important river Paranahyba in the province of Piauhy.
GEOLOGY OF EASTERN BRAZIL.
For the greater part of the way to Rio the railway runs parallel with the river. As laid down on the maps, the valley lies between a mountain range called the Serra da Mantiqueira on the left, and a minor range, which divides the upper course of the river from the middle part, where it flows in the opposite direction. The appearance of the country through which I now passed forcibly suggested to me views respecting its geological history, which were confirmed and extended by what I afterwards saw in the neighbourhood of Rio, and by all that I have since been able to learn on the subject.