“I, therefore, hope, and above all pray, that you may be led to fulfil my wishes in the attentions you pay to Father Thomas Bonaventure and his three companions, and thus give me another proof of your esteem and friendship.
“So I remain, Your friend and obedient Servant, João (Father Provincial), LDS.”
“Well, there is not much in that, is there?” said José, with a queer little grimace as he finished taking down the translation from the Prior’s rapid and incisive dictation.
“No,” I observed; “it only shows that the Jesuits got wind of the existence of great wealth at Tangikano, and so, with their customary subtlety, they fitted out an expedition to recover it under the guise of a noble quest for science. Still, that is something, isn’t it? It proves to us the thing was thought worth doing centuries ago by men on the spot who must have had a better knowledge of what the district contained than any of us to-day can have.”
“True,” replied the Prior thoughtfully, passing a hand reflectively across his forehead. “It shows us, too, that we are on the right track, and that their musty-looking old manuscripts may have a very real message about the sacred lake, so I vote that, although the night is so very far advanced, we push on with our researches. Do you agree, Glynn?”
“Yes,” I replied at once, for my interest too was now most keenly excited, and thereupon we all three of us bent down to work again and tackled the next document.
This proved to be an account of the journey of the same Father Thomas Bonaventure and his three companions mentioned in the letter when they had passed Xingu and had drawn within a few miles of the wonderful lake itself. It was written in the same kind of cipher as the other and in the same florid terms. In our opinion it was put on record at the Monastery of St. Stanislaus in the city of Mexico at the same time as the Father Provincial’s letter.
Stripped of its verbiage, it related how the four explorers had duly arrived at the village of Tangikano, and, in order not to excite suspicion, had pretended they had come for a missionary effort which would last several weeks. By this means they won the entire confidence of the settlement, the population of which consisted of about forty persons, of whom twenty were slaves, and the remainder free Indians and negroes in the employ of the principal resident, a Spaniard named Pedro Barra, who kept them engaged attending to a large number of cattle and horses.
The priests, indeed, gave a very pretty picture of the state of things in existence on this estate. It was as follows:—
“The slaves appeared contented and happy, as slaves generally do. Every evening at sunset they came to bid good-night to Senhor Pedro and ourselves, a similar salutation taking place when they first met us in the morning. As a rule, the master would be seated in a comfortable easy-chair on the verandah, and each passed with a salutation suited to his age or station. The Indians would be generally content with ‘Boa noite’ (good-night), the younger ones and most of the women and children, both Indians and slaves, would hold out their hand, saying: ‘Sua benção’ (your blessing), to which he would reply, ‘Deos te benços’ (God bless you) making at the same time the sign of the cross. Others—and these were mostly the old negroes—would gravely repeat: ‘Louvado seja of nome do Senhor Jesu Christo’ (Blessed be the name of the Lord Jesus Christ), to which he would reply with equal gravity: ‘Para sempre’ (for ever). Children of all classes here (they went on) never meet their parents in the morning or leave them at night without in the same manner asking their blessing, and they do the same invariably of every stranger who enters the house. In fact, it is there the common salutation of children and inferiors, and has a very pleasing effect.”