us than we had hitherto had. The river became more picturesque as we advanced. The water was very low, it being now the height of the dry season; the islands were smaller than those further down, and some of them were high and rocky. Bold wooded bluffs projected into the stream, and all the shores were fringed with beaches of glistening white sand. On one side of the river there was an extensive grassy plain or campo with isolated patches of trees scattered over it. On the 14th and following day we stopped several times to ramble ashore. Our longest excursion was to a large shallow lagoon, choked up with aquatic plants, which lay about two miles across the campo. At a place called Juquerapuá we engaged a pilot to conduct us to Arroyos, and a few miles above the pilot's house, arrived at a point where it was not possible to advance further in our large canoe on account of the rapids.
September 16th. Embarked at six a.m. in a large montaria which had been lent to us for this part of our voyage by Senhor Seixas, leaving the vigilinga anchored close to a rocky islet, named Santa Anna, to await our return. Isidoro was left in charge, and we were sorry to be obliged to leave behind also our mulatto José, who had fallen ill since leaving Baiaō. We had then remaining only Alexandro, Manoel, and the pilot, a sturdy Tapuyo named Joaquim; scarcely a sufficient crew to paddle against the strong currents.
At ten a.m. we arrived at the first rapids, which are called Tapaiunaquára. The river, which was here about a mile wide, was choked up with rocks, a broken ridge passing completely across it. Between these
