The Naturalist on the River Amazons | Page 9

palms, bearing aloft their magnificent crowns of
finely-cut fronds. Amongst the latter the slim assai-palm was especially
noticeable, growing in groups of four or five; its smooth,
gently-curving stem, twenty to thirty feet high, terminating in a head of
feathery foliage, inexpressibly light and elegant in outline. On the
boughs of the taller and more ordinary-looking trees sat tufts of
curiously- leaved parasites. Slender, woody lianas hung in festoons
from the branches, or were suspended in the form of cords and ribbons;
whilst luxuriant creeping plants overran alike tree-trunks, roofs and
walls, or toppled over palings in a copious profusion of foliage. The
superb banana (Musa paradisiaca), of which I had always read as
forming one of the charms of tropical vegetation, grew here with great
luxuriance-- its glossy velvety-green leaves, twelve feet in length,
curving over the roofs of verandahs in the rear of every house. The
shape of the leaves, the varying shades of green which they present
when lightly moved by the wind, and especially the contrast they afford
in colour and form to the more sombre hues and more rounded outline
of the other trees, are quite sufficient to account for the charm of this
glorious tree.
Strange forms of vegetation drew our attention at almost every step.
Amongst them were the different kinds of Bromelia, or pineapple
plants, with their long, rigid, sword-shaped leaves, in some species
jagged or toothed along their edges. Then there was the bread-fruit
tree--an importation, it is true; but remarkable from its large, glossy,
dark green, strongly digitated foliage, and its interesting history. Many
other trees and plants, curious in leaf, stem, or manner of growth, grew
on the borders of the thickets along which lay our road; they were all
attractive to newcomers, whose last country ramble of quite recent date
was over the bleak moors of Derbyshire on a sleety morning in April.

As we continued our walk the brief twilight commenced, and the
sounds of multifarious life came from the vegetation around. The
whirring of cicadas; the shrill stridulation of a vast number and variety
of field crickets and grasshoppers, each species sounding its peculiar
note; the plaintive hooting of tree frogs--all blended together in one
continuous ringing sound--the audible expression of the teeming
profusion of Nature. As night came on, many species of frogs and toads
in the marshy places joined in the chorus-- their croaking and
drumming, far louder than anything I had before heard in the same line,
being added to the other noises, created an almost deafening din. This
uproar of life, I afterwards found, never wholly ceased, night or day. In
the course of time I became, like other residents, accustomed to it. It is,
however, one of the peculiarities of a tropical--at least, a
Brazilian--climate which is most likely to surprise a stranger. After my
return to England, the deathlike stillness of summer days in the country
appeared to me as strange as the ringing uproar did on my first arrival
at Para. The object of our visit being accomplished, we returned to the
city. The fire-flies were then out in great numbers, flitting about the
sombre woods, and even the frequented streets. We turned into our
hammocks, well pleased with what we had seen, and full of
anticipation with regard to the wealth of natural objects we had come to
explore.
During the first few days, we were employed in landing our baggage
and arranging our extensive apparatus. We then accepted the invitation
of Mr. Miller to make use of his rocinha, or country-house in the
suburbs, until we finally decided on a residence. Upon this, we made
our first essay in housekeeping. We bought cotton hammocks, the
universal substitute for beds in this country, cooking utensils and
crockery, and engaged a free negro, named Isidoro, as cook and
servant-of-all-work.
Our first walks were in the immediate suburbs of Para. The city lies on
a corner of land formed by the junction of the river Guama with the
Para. As I have said before, the forest, which covers the whole country,
extends close up to the city streets; indeed, the town is built on a tract
of cleared land, and is kept free from the jungle only by the constant

care of the Government. The surface, though everywhere low, is
slightly undulating, so that areas of dry land alternate throughout with
areas of swampy ground, the vegetation and animal tenants of the two
being widely different. Our residence lay on the side of the city nearest
the Guama, on the borders of one of the low and swampy areas which
here extends over a portion of the suburbs. The tract of land is
intersected by well-macadamised suburban roads, the chief of which,
the Estrada das Mongubeiras (the Monguba road), about a mile