dawned, and, on awakening, the first object I saw was the Santa
Rosa, at anchor under a green island in mid-river. I preferred to
make the remainder of the voyage in company of my collections, so
bade Mr. Patchett good-day. The owner of the Santa Rosa, Senor
Jacinto Machado, whom I had not seen before, received me aboard,
and apologised for having started without me. He was a white man,
a planter, and was now taking his year's production of cacao,
about twenty tons, to Para. The canoe was very heavily laden, and
I was rather alarmed to see that it was leaking at all points.
The crew were all in the water diving about to feel for the
holes, which they stopped with pieces of ray and clay, and an old
negro was baling the water out of the hold. This was a pleasant
prospect for a three-day voyage! Senor Machado treated it as the
most ordinary incident possible: "It was always likely to leak,
for it was an old vessel that had been left as worthless high and
dry on the beach, and he had bought it very cheap."

When the leaks were stopped, we proceeded on our journey and at
night reached the mouth of the Anapu. I wrapped myself in an old
sail, and fell asleep on the raised deck. The next day, we
threaded the Igarape-mirim, and on the 19th descended the Moju.
Senor Machado and I by this time had become very good friends. At
every interesting spot on the banks of the Moju, he manned the
small boat and took me ashore. There are many large houses on
this river belonging to what were formerly large and flourishing
plantations, but which, since the Revolution of 1835-6, had been
suffered to go to decay. Two of the largest buildings were
constructed by the Jesuits in the early part of the last century.
We were told that there were formerly eleven large sugar mills on
the banks of the Moju, while now there are only three.