This year Joam Garral decided to do as he had done in preceding years. Only, when the raft was made up, he was going to leave to Benito all the detail of the trading part of the business. But there was no time to lose. The beginning of June was the best season to start, for the waters, increased by the floods of the upper basin, would gradually and gradually subside until the month of October.
The first steps had thus to be taken without delay, for the raft was to be of unusual proportions. It would be necessary to fell a half-mile square of the forest which was situated at the junction of the Nanay and the Amazon—that is to say, the whole river side of the fazenda, to form the enormous mass, for such were the jangadas, or river rafts, which attained the dimensions of a small island.
It was in this jangada, safer than any other vessel of the country, larger than a hundred egariteas or vigilingas coupled together, that Joam Garral proposed to embark with his family, his servants, and his merchandise.
“Excellent idea!” had cried Minha, clapping her hands, when she learned her father’s scheme.
“Yes,” said Yaquita, “and in that way we shall reach Belem without danger or fatigue.”
“And during the stoppages we can have some hunting in the forests which line the banks,” added Benito.
“Won’t it take rather long?” observed Manoel; “could we not hit upon some quicker way of descending the Amazon?”
It would take some time, obviously, but the interested observation of the young doctor received no attention from any one.
Joam Garral then called in an Indian who was the principal manager of the fazenda.
“In a month,” he said to him, “the jangada must be built and ready to launch.”