whole ballet of naked coryphei. Nine men, seven women and three dogs
composed the spectacle, of which the masculine part, the human and
the canine, proceeded to swim the stream and fraternize with the
strangers. The women rested on the bank like river-nymphs: their
costume was somewhat less prudish than that of the men, the coat of
rocoa being confined to their faces, which were further decorated with
joints of reed thrust through the nose and ears. A glance of curiosity
darted across the water by the colonel was surprised in its flight by
the ambassadors, who addressed a hasty word or two to their ladies:
the latter, with one quick and cat-like gesture, whipped off each a
branch of the nearest foliage, and were dressed in a single instant.

To reward all these vociferous mendicants with the invaluable cutlery
was hardly prudent. Seeing the hesitation of their visitors, the
savages adopted other tactics. Hurling themselves across the river,
they quickly reappeared, armed with all the temptations they could
think of to induce the strangers to barter. The scene of these savages
coming to market was a picturesque one. Entering the water, provided
with their objects of exchange, which they held high above their
heads, and swimming with the right arm only, they began to cut the
river diagonally. The lifting of the waves and the dash of spray
almost concealed the file of dusky heads. Nothing could be plainly
seen but the left arms, standing out of the water as stiff and
inflexible as so many bars of bronze, relieved against the silvery
brightness of the water. These advancing arms were adorned with the
material of traffic--bird-skins of variegated colors, bows and arrows,
and live tamed parrots standing upon perches of bamboo. The white
spectators could not but admire the native vigor, elegance and
promptitude of their motions as they rose from the water like Tritons,
and, throwing their treasures down in a heap, bounded forward to give