we met a shrewd Santarem trader, whom I knew, Senhor Chico Honorio, who had a larger and much better provided canoe than our own. The wind was strong from below all day, so we remained at this place in his company. He had his wife with him, and a number of Indians, male and female. We slung our hammocks under the trees, and breakfasted and dined together, our cloth being spread on the sanely beach in the shade; after killing a large quantity of fish with timbó, of which we had obtained a supply at Itapuáma. At night we were again under way with the land breeze. The water was shoaly to a great distance off the coast, and our canoe having the lighter draught went ahead, our leadsman crying out the soundings to our companion: the depth was only one fathom, half a mile from the coast. We spent the next day (25th) at the mouth of a creek called Pirí, which is exactly opposite the village of Boim, and on the following night advanced about twelve miles. Every point of land had a long spit of sand stretching one or two miles towards the middle of the river, which it was necessary to double by a wide circuit. The terral failed us at midnight when we were near an espera, called Maraï, the mouth of a shallow creek.
Sept. 26th.—I did not like the prospect of spending the whole dreary day at Maraï, where it was impossible to ramble ashore, the forest being utterly impervious, and the land still partly under water. Besides, we had used up our last stick of firewood to boil our coffee at sunrise, and could not get a fresh supply at this place. So there being a dead calm on the river in the morning,
