"The forest behind Cametá is traversed by several broad roads, which lead over undulating ground many miles into the interior. They pass generally under shade, and part of the way through groves of coffee and orange trees, fragrant plantations of cacao, and tracts of second-growth woods. The narrow, broad-watered valleys, with which the land is intersected, alone have remained clothed with primeval forest, at least near the town. The houses along these beautiful roads belong chiefly to mameluco, mulatto, and Indian families, each of which has its own small plantation. There are only a few planters with large establishments; and these have seldom more than a dozen slaves. Besides the main roads, there are endless by-paths, which thread the forest, and communicate with isolated houses. Along these the traveller may wander day after day, without leaving the shade, and everywhere meet with cheerful, simple, and hospitable people."
"We made many excursions down the Irritiri, and saw much of these creeks. The Magoary is a magnificent channel: the different branches form quite a labyrinth, and the land is everywhere of little elevation. All these smaller rivers throughout the Pará estuary are of the nature of creeks. The land is so level, that the short local rivers have no sources and downward currents, like rivers, as we understand them. They serve the purpose of draining the land; but, instead of having a constant current one way, they have a regular ebb and flow with the tide. The natives call them igarapés, or canoe-paths. They are characteristic of the country. The land is everywhere covered with impenetrable forests: the houses and villages are all on the water-side, and nearly all communication is by water. This semi-aquatic life of the people is one of the most interesting features of the country. For short excursions, and for fishing in still waters, a small boat, called montaria, is universally used. It is made of five planks,—a broad one for the bottom, bent into the proper shape by the action of heat, two narrow ones for the sides, and two triangular pieces for stem and stern. It has no rudder: the paddle serves for both steering and propelling. The montaria takes here the place of the horse, mule, or camel of other regions. Besides one or more montarias, almost every family has a larger canoe, called igarité. This is fitted with two masts, a rudder, and keel, and has an arched awning or cabin near the stern, made of a framework of tough lianas, thatched with palm-leaves. In the igarité, they will cross stormy rivers fifteen or twenty miles broad. The natives are all boat-builders. It is often remarked by white residents, that the Indian is a carpenter and shipwright by intuition. It is astonishing to see in what crazy vessels these people will risk themselves. I have seen Indians cross rivers in a leaky montaria when it required the nicest equilibrium to keep the leak just above water: a movement of a hair's-breadth would send all to the bottom; but they manage to cross in safety. If a squall overtakes them as they are crossing in a heavily-laden canoe, they all jump overboard, and swim about until the heavy sea subsides, when they re-embark."
JUNCTION OF THE MADEIRA.
"Our course lay through narrow channels between islands. We passed the last of these, and then beheld to the south a sea-like expanse of water, where the Madeira, the greatest tributary of the Amazons, after two thousand miles of course, blends its waters with those of the king of rivers. I was hardly prepared for a junction of waters on so vast a scale as this, now nearly nine hundred miles from the sea. While travelling week after week along the somewhat monotonous stream, often hemmed in between islands, and becoming thoroughly familiar with it, my sense of the magnitude of this vast water-system had become gradually deadened; but this noble sight renewed the first feelings of wonder. One is inclined, in such places as these, to think the Paraenses do not exaggerate much when they call the Amazons the Mediterranean of South America. Beyond the mouth of the Madeira, the Amazons sweeps down in a majestic reach, to all appearance not a whit less in breadth before than after this enormous addition to its waters. The Madeira does not ebb and flow simultaneously with the Amazons; it rises and sinks about two months earlier: so that it was now fuller than the main river. Its current, therefore, poured forth freely from its mouth, carrying with it a long line of floating trees, and patches of grass, which had been torn from its crumbly banks in the lower part of its course. The current, however, did not reach the middle of the main stream, but swept along nearer to the southern shore.
"The Madeira is navigable 480 miles from its mouth: a series of cataracts and rapids then commences, which extends, with some intervals of quiet water, about 160 miles, beyond which is another long stretch of navigable stream."
JUNCTION OF THE RIO NEGRO.
"A brisk wind from the east sprung up early in the morning of the 22d: we then hoisted all sail, and made for the mouth of the Rio Negro. This noble stream, at its junction with the Amazons, seems, from its position, to be a direct continuation of the main river; while the Solimoens, which joins it at an angle, and is somewhat narrower than its tributary, appears to be a branch, instead of the main trunk, of the vast water-system.
"The Rio Negro broadens considerably from its mouth upward, and presents the appearance of a great lake; its black-dyed waters having no current, and seeming to be dammed up by the impetuous flow of the yellow, turbid Solimoens, which here belches forth a continuous line of uprooted trees, and patches of grass, and forms a striking contrast with its tributary. In crossing, we passed the line a little more than half-way over, where the waters of the two rivers meet, and are sharply demarcated from each other. On reaching the opposite shore, we found a remarkable change. All our insect pests had disappeared, as if by magic, even from the hold of the canoe: the turmoil of an agitated, swiftly-flowing river, and its torn, perpendicular, earthy banks, had given place to tranquil water, and a coast indented with snug little bays, fringed with sloping, sandy beaches. The low shore, and vivid, light-green, endlessly varied foliage, which prevailed on the south side of the Amazons, were exchanged for a hilly country, clothed with a sombre, rounded, and monotonous forest. A light wind carried us gently along the coast to the city of Barra, which lies about seven or eight miles within the mouth of the river.
"The town of Barra is built on a tract of elevated but very uneven land, on the left bank of the Rio Negro, and contained, in 1850, about three thousand inhabitants. It is now the principal station for the lines of steamers which were established in 1853; and passengers and goods are trans-shipped here for the Solimoens and Peru. A steamer runs once a fortnight between Pará and Barra; and another as often between this place and Nauta, in the Peruvian territory."