the country, some of which still remain in the wild state,
between the Amazons and the Plata. There are three villages on
the coast of Carnapijo, and several planters' houses, formerly
the centres of flourishing estates, which have now relapsed into
forest in consequence of the scarcity of labour and diminished
enterprise. One of the largest of these establishments is called
Caripi. At the time of which I am speaking, it belonged to a
Scotch gentleman, Mr. Campbell, who had married the daughter of a
large Brazilian proprietor. Most of the occasional English and
American visitors to Para had made some stay at Caripi, and it
had obtained quite a reputation for the number and beauty of the
birds and insects found there; I therefore applied for, and
obtained permission, to spend two or three months at the place.
The distance from Para was about twenty-three miles, round by the
northern end of the Ilha das oncas (Isle of Tigers), which faces
the city. I bargained for a passage thither with the cabo of a
small trading-vessel, which was going past the place, and started
on the 7th of December, 1848.

We were thirteen persons aboard: the cabo, his pretty mulatto
mistress, the pilot and five Indian canoemen, three young
mamelucos (tailor-apprentices who were taking a holiday trip to
Cameta), a heavily chained runaway slave, and myself. The young
mamelucos were pleasant, gentle fellows; they could read and
write, and amused themselves on the voyage with a book containing
descriptions and statistics of foreign countries, in which they
seemed to take great interest--one reading while the others
listened. At Uirapiranga, a small island behind the Ilha das
oncas, we had to stop a short time to embark several pipes of
cashaca at a sugar estate. The cabo took the montaria and two