who showed us all that was interesting about the place, and took
us to the best spots in the neighbourhood for birds and insects.
The mills were built a long time ago by a wealthy Brazilian. They
had belonged to Mr. Upton for many years. I was told that when
the dark-skinned revolutionists were preparing for their attack
on Para, they occupied the place, but not the slightest injury
was done to the machinery or building, for the leaders said it
was against the Portuguese and their party that they were at war,
not against the other foreigners.

The Iritiri Creek at the mills is only a few yards wide; it winds
about between two lofty walls of forest for some distance, then
becomes much broader, and finally joins the Magoary. There are
many other ramifications, creeks or channels, which lead to
retired hamlets and scattered houses, inhabited by people of
mixed white, Indian, and negro descent. Many of them did business
with Mr. Leavens, bringing for sale their little harvests of
rice, or a few logs of timber. It was interesting to see them in
their little, heavily-laden montarias. Sometimes the boats were
managed by handsome, healthy young lads, loosely clad in a straw
hat, white shirt, and dark blue trousers, turned up to the knee.
They steered, paddled, and managed the varejao (the boating
pole), with much grace and dexterity.

We made many excursions down the Iritiri, and saw much of these
creeks; besides, our second visit to the mills was by water. The
Magoary is a magnificent channel; the different branches form
quite a labyrinth, and the land is everywhere of little
elevation. All these smaller rivers, throughout the Para
Estuary, are of the nature of creeks. The land is so level, that