the whole breadth of the channel, while the darker water of its
tributary seems to creep along the shore, and is no longer
distinguishable four or five miles from its mouth.

We reached Santarem at 11 a.m. The town has a clean and cheerful
appearance from the river. It consists of three long streets,
with a few short ones crossing them at right angles, and contains
about 2500 inhabitants. It lies just within the mouth of Tapajos,
and is divided into two parts, the town and the aldeia or
village. The houses of the white and trading classes are
substantially built, many being of two and three stories, and all
white-washed and tiled. The aldeia, which contains the Indian
portion of the population, or did so formerly, consists mostly of
mud huts, thatched with palm leaves. The situation of the town is
very beautiful. The land, although but slightly elevated, does
not form, strictly speaking, a portion of the alluvial river
plains of the Amazons, but is rather a northern prolongation of
the Brazilian continental land. It is scantily wooded, and
towards the interior consists of undulating campos, which are
connected with a series of hills extending southward as far as
the eye can reach. I subsequently made this place my head-
quarters for three years; an account of its neighbourhood is
therefore, reserved for another chapter. At the first sight of
Santarem, one cannot help being struck with the advantages of its
situation. Although 400 miles from the sea, it is accessible to
vessels of heavy tonnage coming straight from the Atlantic. The
river has only two slight bends between this port and the sea,
and for five or six months in the year the Amazonian trade wind
blows with very little interruption, so that sailing ships coming
from foreign countries could reach the place with little