I rose at dawn; we made some tea in our kettle. Replenishing our sack of provisions at every village, and having fed, watered, and groomed the horses, we rode until it was too hot. We put up our bit of sail and rested during the heat, and then we rode on till nightfall; after this we fed again, looked after the horses and picketed them. Some of the country, and especially the forests, were lovely. Whenever we came to a village or a ranch, we and our animals got housed; and when we did not, which was rare, we camped out, for it was very warm. We never met with a single scrap of danger the whole way, nor a rude word; for defence we had only a penknife, our toasting-fork, and an old pistol that would not go off. I had given my weapons to Richard, whose journey was longer and more dangerous than mine.
At one place that we stopped at, we rose at half-past three, and whilst dressing I heard what I supposed was thrashing out grain or beating sacks. It went on for about fifteen minutes, and I did not pay any attention to it, till at last I heard a sob issue from the beaten mass at the other side of the thin partition wall. I knew then what was taking place, and turned so sick I could hardly get to the door. I ran to the room, caught hold of the man's arms, and called for Chico and for everybody in the place, but I was fully ten minutes before I could arouse any one's pity or sympathy; they seemed so used to it they would not take the trouble to get up. The man who was beating only laughed, and beat on. I very nearly fainted. I expected the poor wretch would have been pounded to an ointment, but to my surprise, when he gave it a kick and told it to get up, up rose quite a fine young woman, gave herself a shake, and walked off like a Newfoundland dog. I went after her, and asked her if she was hurt, and she said, "Oh no, not much; he often goes on like that!" "But then," I said, "what did he do it for? What did you do?" She said, "Another black woman and I were quarrelling, so he thrashed us both; but as you were sound asleep you did not hear the first."
The Landlord of the Hotel is mystified.
We arrived in Rio about the fifteenth day. I had never enjoyed anything more; but as I had been out for three months without any change of clothes, I was a very curious object to look at, to say nothing of my face and hands being the colour of mahogany. I had been told before getting in that the Estrangeiros, where I had left my maid and baggage, was full, so I waited till night, and then went straight to the next best hotel in the town. The landlord naturally did not recognize me, and he pointed to a little place on the other side of the street, where sailors' wives went, and he said, "I think that will be about your place, my good woman, not here." "Well," I said, "I think I am coming in here all the same." So, wondering, he took me upstairs and showed me his rooms; but I was so mighty particular, that it was not till I got to his best rooms that I stopped and said, "This will do. Be kind enough to send up this letter for me to the Estrangeiros."
Presently down came my maid, who was a great swell, with my boxes. After a bath and dressing, I rang the bell and ordered some supper. He came up himself, as I was such an object of curiosity. When he saw me again he said, "Did that woman come to take the apartments for you, madam? I do beg your pardon; I am afraid I was rather rude to her." "Well," I said, "I am that woman myself; but you need not apologize, because I saw myself in the glass, and I don't wonder at it." He nearly tumbled down, and when I had explained my adverse circumstances to him, begged my pardon till I was quite tired of hearing it. I went up to Santos for some time; and when I thought Richard could arrive, I went down to Rio to meet him, and used to go on board every steamer that came in from Bahía in the hopes of his being there. At this time came out to Rio Mr. Wilfrid Blunt and his sister Alice. I went on board ship after ship to meet Richard, but as he never came, I got at last very anxious and miserable, and only used to make a fool of myself by crying when I did not find him. He had been gone over four months. At last the first steamer that I did not go to meet, he arrived in, and was quite angry to find that I was not on board to meet him. He had had a very jolly journey, canoeing down the river to the "falls of the Paulo Affonso," and sleeping at different ranches on the banks of the river. It was something like fifteen hundred miles, coming out eventually at Bahía, where he had a great friend, an old gentleman popularly known as "Charley Williams," who gave him hospitality till he embarked, or could catch a steamer to Rio. We then went down to Santos together.
As Richard was canoeing down the San Francisco river, he found a lot of stones called Pingua d'Agua; they are formed by congealed rain in the rocks; they get fossilized, and if polished have the glitter of diamonds. Richard met an Englishman, who told him that he had come over with all he had in the world, £1500, and expended it in diamonds, of which he fondly believed he had got about £30,000 worth, and was going home with them. So Richard told him that he had just come from the diamond mines, and that he should immensely like to see them. When he showed them to him, Richard's face fell, and he said, "What is the matter?" "Well," he said, "I hardly like to tell you, but I am afraid you have been done. Some one has passed off these Pingua d'Agua upon you for diamonds, and I am afraid you have exchanged £1500 for thirty shillings' worth." So the man said, "Oh, you must be a fool!" "Well," said Richard, "if it isn't that I am so sorry for you, I should say 'serve you right,' because I really do happen to know."
About the 17th of April, 1868, Richard, who had been looking queer and seedy for six weeks, but persisting all the time that he was perfectly well, felt feverish and agueish, and went to bed. I gave him calomel and castor oil, and then every sort of thing that I could think of. He got worse and worse, and I was in despair, for there were no doctors; but at last, after some days, a doctor did arrive from Rio, and I sent for him at once, and he passed the night in the house. Of course it was purely Brazilian treatment for a Brazilian disease, and nothing we knew touched it. He had six cuppings, with thirty-six glasses and twelve leeches, tartar emetic, and all sorts of other things, and there was something to be given or rubbed every half-hour, of which a very large ingredient was orange tea. The doctor came twice a day, and the number of remedies was wonderful, every half-hour, and I never left him day or night. They blistered him terribly.
When Richard thought he was dying, he sent me for Fray João, with whom he had been learning astronomy; but Fray João was gone on an expedition up country for two months, and he would not have anybody else for the Sacraments; but he accepted the Scapular, which all Catholics will understand, and to others it is not needful to explain, and he wore it to the day of his death. One night he gave me a terrible fright; he asked me to give him twenty drops of chlorodyne. I objected, but he was so imperative about it that I thought he had been ordered it; fortunately, I only gave him fifteen. He found it too strong, and, also fortunately, he spat it out, and asked me to mix him another of ten, which he drank. He soon frightened me by feeling sick and faint, and I gave him lukewarm water to make him bring it up, and sent for the doctor, who was very frightened about him. He was insensible an hour. He gave ether pills, applied mustard to the calves of the legs and inside the thighs, and then Richard had a calm and good sleep all night, and from that got a great deal better. He was able to go into his study after a month, and took his first drive five weeks after he was taken ill, and at the end of seven weeks I was able to take him down to the Barra, where Mr. Ford had kindly lent us his bungalow, where Richard could sit on the sands and let the sea roll over him, and here he got much better. I may now tell a horrid little story, as it illustrates Richard's power of mesmerizing.