CHAPTER X.

EXCURSION TO MAUHES AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD.

LEAVE MANAOS.—ON BOARD THE “IBICUHY.”—NAVIGATION OF THE RIVER RAMOS.—ASPECT OF THE BANKS.—ARRIVAL AT MAUHES.—SITUATION OF MAUHES.—TUPINAMBARANAS.—CHARACTER OF POPULATION.—APPEARANCE OF THE VILLAGES OF MAUHES.—BOLIVIAN INDIANS.—GUARANÀ.—EXCURSION TO MUCAJA-TUBA.—MUNDURUCU INDIANS.—ASPECT OF VILLAGE.—CHURCH.—DISTRIBUTION OF PRESENTS.—GENEROSITY OF THE INDIANS.—THEIR INDIFFERENCE.—VISIT TO ANOTHER SETTLEMENT.—RETURN TO MAUHES.—ARRIVAL OF MUNDURUCUS IN THE VILLAGE.—DESCRIPTION OF TATTOOING.—COLLECTION.—BOTO.—INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS.—PALM COLLECTION.—WALK IN THE FOREST.—LEAVE MAUHES.—MUNDURUCU INDIAN AND HIS WIFE.—THEIR MANNERS AND APPEARANCE.—INDIAN TRADITION.—DISTINCTIONS OF CASTE.

_December 12th._—We left Manaos, according to our intention, on Sunday evening (the 10th), raising the anchor with military exactness at five o’clock, the very moment appointed, somewhat to the disappointment of a boatful of officials from the National Guard, who were just on their way to pay their parting compliments to the President, at the hour fixed for his departure. In Brazil it may safely be assumed that things will always be a little behind time; on this occasion, however, our punctuality was absolute, and the officers were forced to wave their adieux as we proceeded on our way, leaving their canoe behind. The hour was of good omen,—a cool breeze, the one blessing for which the traveller sighs in these latitudes, blowing up the Amazons; and as we left the Rio Negro, it lay behind us, a golden pathway to the setting sun, which was going down in a blaze of glory. We were received on board with all possible hospitality by the commander, Captain Faria. He has made every arrangement for our comfort which a vessel of war, not intended for passengers, can afford, giving up his own quarters for my accommodation. On deck he has arranged a little recess, sheltered by a tarpaulin from the sun and rain, to serve as a dining-room, that we may take our meals in the fresh air instead of dining in the close cabin below decks intended for this purpose.

The morning following our departure was an interesting one, because we found ourselves at the mouth of the Ramos, unknown to steam navigation, and about which the Captain had some apprehensions, as he was by no means sure that he should find water enough for his vessel. It was, therefore, necessary to proceed with great caution, sounding at every step and sending out boats in advance, to ascertain the direction of the channel. Once within the river, we had depth of water enough to float much larger vessels. The banks of this stream are beautiful. The forest was gay with color, and the air laden with the rich perfume of flowers, which, when we came up the Amazons six months ago, were not yet in bloom. We were struck also with the great abundance and variety of the palms, so much more numerous on the lower course of the Amazons than on the Solimoens. The shores were dotted with thrifty-looking plantations, laid out with a neatness and care which bespeak greater attention to agriculture than we have seen elsewhere. Healthy-looking cattle were grazing about many of the sitios. As the puff of our steam was heard, the inhabitants ran out to gaze in amazement at the unwonted visitant, standing in groups on the shores, almost too much lost in wonder to return our greetings. The advent of a steamer in their waters should be to them a welcome harbinger of the time, perhaps not far distant, when, instead of their present tedious and uncertain canoe journeys to Serpa or Villa Bella, they will be able to transport their produce to either of these points in a few hours, in small steamboats, connecting all these settlements, and adapted to the navigation. Any such prophetic vision was, however, no doubt very far from their thoughts; if they had any idea as to the object of our coming, it was probably a fear lest we should be on a recruiting expedition. If so, it is certainly a very innocent one, fishes being the only recruits we aim at entrapping. From the Ramos we turned into the Mauhes, ascending to the town of the same name, where to-day we are enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Michelis.

If any of my readers are as ignorant as I was myself before making this voyage, a bit of geography may not be out of place here. As everybody knows, the river Madeira, that great affluent of the Amazons, all whose children are giants, except when compared with their royal father, enters the main stream on its southern side at a point nearly opposite Serpa. But this is not its only connection with the Amazons. The river Mauhes starting about twenty-five leagues from its mouth, runs from the river Madeira almost parallel with the Amazons until it joins the river Ramos, which continues its course in the same direction to a lower point, where it empties into the main stream. The district of land thus enclosed between four rivers, having the Madeira on the west, the Amazons on the north, and the Ramos and the Mauhes on the south, is known on the map as the island of Tupinambaranas. It is a network of rivers, lakes, and islands; one of those watery labyrinths which would be in itself an extensive river system in any other country, but is here absolutely lost in the world of waters of which it forms a part. Indeed, the vastness of the Amazons is not felt chiefly when following its main course, but rather on its lesser tributaries, where streams to which a place on the map is hardly accorded are found to be in fact large rivers.

The region of Mauhes is comparatively little known, because it is off the line of steam navigation; but, thanks to the efforts of its most prominent citizen, Mr. Michelis, who has made his home there for twenty-five years, and contributed, by his energy, intelligence, and honorable character, to raise the tone of the whole district, it is one of the most prosperous in the province. It is melancholy to see how little is done in other districts, when an instance like this shows what one man can do to improve the forest population along the banks of the Amazons. His example and its successful results should be an encouragement to all intelligent settlers on the Amazons. The little village of Mauhes stands on a sort of terrace, in front of which, at this season when the waters are still considerably below high-water mark, runs a broad, white beach, rendered all the prettier at the moment of our arrival by a large party of Bolivian Indians, who had built their camp-fires on its sands. We looked at these people with a kind of wonder, thinking of the perilous voyages they constantly make in their heavily-laden canoes, forced to unload their cargo over and over again as they shoot the cataracts of the Madeira on their way down, or drag their boats wearily up them on their return. It seems strange, when this river is the highway of commerce from Bolivia, Matto-Grosso, and through Matto-Grosso from Paraguay to the Amazons, that the suggestion made by Major Coutinho in his interesting account of his journey on the Rio Madeira, has not been adopted. He says that a road carried along the shore of the river for a distance of forty leagues would obviate all the difficulty and danger of this arduous journey.

Mauhes is not a cluster of houses, but is built in line along a broad, grass-grown street running the length of the terrace formed by the top of the river-bank. In an open space, at one end of this village street, stands the church, a small but neat-looking building, with a wooden cross in front. Most of the houses are low and straw-thatched, but here and there a more substantial house, with tiled roof, like that of Mr. Michelis, breaks the ordinary level of the buildings. Notwithstanding the modest appearance of this little town, all who know something of its history speak of it as one of the most promising of the Amazonian settlements, and as having a better moral tone than usually prevails. One of its great staples is the Guaraná. This shrub, or rather vine,—for it is a trailing plant somewhat like our high-bush blackberry,—is about eight feet high when full grown, and bears a bean the size of a coffee-bean, two being enclosed in each envelope. This bean, after being roasted, is pounded in a small quantity of water, until it becomes, when thoroughly ground, a compact paste, and when dry is about the color of chocolate, though much harder. In this state it is grated, (the grater being always the rough tongue of the Pirarucu,) and when mixed with sugar and water it makes a very pleasant, refreshing drink. It is said to have medicinal properties also, and is administered with excellent effect in cases of diarrhœa. In certain parts of Brazil it is very extensively used as well as in Bolivia, and will, no doubt, have a wider distribution when its value is more generally known. The Indians display no little fancy in the manufacture of this article, moulding the paste into the shape of mounted soldiers, horses, birds, serpents, &c.

This morning I was attracted by voices in the street, and going to the window I saw the door of the house where the President is lodged besieged by a crowd of Bolivian Indians. They had brought some of their robes to sell, and it was not long before several of our party, among whom were ready purchasers, made their appearance in Bolivian costume. This dress is invariable; always the long robe, composed of two pieces, one hanging before, the other behind, belted around the waist and fastened on the shoulders, with an opening for the head to pass through. Such a robe, with a broad-brimmed, coarse straw hat, constitutes the whole dress of these people. Their ordinary working garb is made of bark; their better robe, for more festive occasions, consists of a twilled cotton of their own manufacture, exceedingly soft and fine, but very close and strong. These dresses may be more or less ornamented, but are always of the same shape. The Bolivian Indians seem to be more industrious than those of the Amazons, or else they are under more rigorous discipline.

_December 14th._—At the settlement of Mucaja-Tuba. Mucaja signifies a particular kind of palm, very abundant here; Tuba means a place. Thus we are among the woods of Acrocomia. Yesterday we were to have left Mauhes with the dawn on an excursion to this place, but at the appointed hour a flood of rain, such as is seen only in these latitudes, was pouring down in torrents, accompanied by thunder and lightning. The delay occasioned by this interruption, however, proved a good fortune in the end. By eleven o’clock the storm was over, but the sky continued overcast during the rest of the day. Our way lay up the river Mauhes, past the mouths of nameless streams and lakes,—broad sheets of water, perfectly unknown out of their immediate neighborhood. Night brought us to our destination, and at about eight o’clock we anchored before this little village. As we approached it a light or two was seen glimmering on the shore, and we could not help again wondering what was the feeling of the people who saw and heard for the first time one of these puffing steam monsters. This morning, with a boat-load of goods of all sorts, intended by the President as presents for the Indians, we put off for the shore. Landing on the beach we went at once to the house of the chief, a most respectable looking old man, who stood at the door to receive us. He was an old acquaintance of Major Coutinho, having formerly accompanied him on his exploration of the Rio Madeira. The inhabitants of this village are Mundurucu Indians, one of the most intelligent and kindly disposed of the Amazonian tribes. Although they are too civilized to be considered as illustrating in any way the wild life of the primitive Indians, yet, as it is the first time we have seen one of their isolated settlements, removed from every civilizing influence except the occasional contact of the white man, the visit was especially interesting to us. It is astonishing to see the size and solidity of their houses, with never a nail driven, the frame consisting of rough trunks bound together by withes made of long, elastic sipos, the cordage of the forest. Major Coutinho tells us that they know very well the use of nails in building, and say to one another derisively, when they want another sipo, “Hand me a nail.” The ridge-pole of this chief’s house could not have been less than twenty-five to thirty-eight feet high, and the room was spacious in proportion. Hammocks were hung in the corners, one of which was partitioned off by a low wall of palm-thatch; bows and arrows, guns and oars, hung on the walls or were leaning against them, and adjoining this central apartment was the mandioca kitchen. There were a number of doors and windows in the room, closed by large palm-mats. The house of the chief stood at the head of a line of houses differing from his only in being somewhat smaller; they made one side of an open square, on the opposite side of which was a corresponding row of buildings. With a few exceptions these houses were empty, for the population gather only three or four times in the course of the year, at certain festival seasons. Generally they are scattered about in their different sitios, attending to their plantations. But at these fêtes they assemble to the number of several hundred, all the dwellings are crowded with families, and the square in the centre is cleared of grass, swept and garnished for their evening dances. Such festivities last for ten days or a fortnight; then they all disperse to their working life again. At this time there are not more than thirty or forty persons in the village. The most interesting object we saw was their church, which stands at the head of the square, and was built entirely by the Indians themselves. It is quite a large structure, capable of holding an assembly of five or six hundred persons. The walls are of mud, very neatly finished inside, and painted in colors made by the Indians from the bark, roots, and fruits of certain trees, and also from a particular kind of clay. The front part of the church is wholly unfurnished, except for the rough wooden font standing just within the door. But the farther end is partitioned off to make a neat chancel, within which several steps lead up to the altar and niche above, where is placed the rude image of the Mother and the Child. Of course the architecture and the ornaments are of the coarsest description; the painting consists only of stripes or lines of blue, red, and yellow, with here and there an attempt at a star or a diamond, or a row of scalloping; but there is something touching in the idea that these poor, uneducated people of the forest have cared to build themselves a temple with their own hands, lavishing upon it such ideas of beauty and taste as they have, and bringing at least their best to their humble altar. None of our city churches, on which millions have been expended, have power to move one like this church, the loving work of the worshippers themselves, with its mud walls so coarsely painted, its wooden cross before the door, and little thatched belfry at one side. It is sad that these people, with so much religious sensibility, are not provided with any regular service. At long intervals a priest, on his round of visitations, makes his way to them, but, except on such rare occasions, they have no one to administer the rites of burial or baptism, or to give religious instruction to them or to their children. And yet their church was faultlessly clean, the mud floor was strewn with fresh green leaves, and everything about the building showed it to be the object of solicitude and care. Their houses were very neat, and they themselves were decently dressed in the invariable costume of the civilized Indian,—the men in trousers and white cotton shirts, the women in calico petticoats, with short, loose chemises, either of cotton or calico, and their long, thick black hair drawn up and fastened on the top of their head by a semicircular comb, brought so far forward that the edge is about on a line with the forehead. A bunch of flowers is generally stuck under the comb on one side. I have never seen an Indian woman who did not wear one of these round combs; although of foreign manufacture, they find their way to the most isolated forest settlements, brought, I suppose, by the travelling pedlers, “regataō.” These gentry are known everywhere on the banks of the Amazons and its tributaries, and are said to be most unprincipled in their dealings with the Indians, who fall readily into the traps set for them by the wily traders. In one of the reports of Dr. Adolfo, who, during his short but able administration, exposed, and as far as it was in his power reformed, abuses in the province of the Amazonas, he says, after speaking of the great need of religious instruction in the more remote settlements: “To-day who goes to seek the Indian in the depth of his virgin forests along the shores of these endless rivers? No one, if it be not the ‘regataō,’ less barbarous certainly than he, but much more corrupt; who spies upon him, depraves and dishonors him, under the pretext of trading.” After our visit to the church, the whole population, men, women, and children, accompanied us down to the beach to receive their presents, distributed by the President in person: common jewelry, which they appreciate highly, calico dresses, beads, scissors, needles, and looking-glasses for the women; knives, fish-hooks, hatchets, and other working tools for the men; and a variety of little trinkets and playthings for the children. But though a cordial, kindly people, they have the impassiveness of the genuine Indian. I did not see a change of expression on any face or hear a word of acknowledgment or pleasure. The only smile was when, being tired with standing in the sun, I sat down among the women, and, as the things were passed rapidly around the circle, I was taken for one of them, and received a very gay gown for my share. This caused a general shout of laughter, and seemed to delight them greatly. We returned to the steamer to breakfast at ten o’clock, and in the afternoon the whole village came out to satisfy their curiosity about the vessel. They are a generous people. I never go among them without receiving some little present, which it would be an insult to refuse. Such as they have they offer to the stranger; it may be a fruit, or a few eggs, or a chicken, a cuia, a basket or a bunch of flowers, but their feelings would be wounded were you to go away empty-handed. On this occasion the daughter of the chief brought me a fine fat fowl, another woman gave me a basket, and another a fruit which resembles very much our winter squash, and is used in the same way. I was glad to have with me some large beads and a few little pictures of saints with which to acknowledge their gifts. But I believe they do not think of any return; it is simply a rite of hospitality with them to make their guest a present. They went over the vessel, heard the cannon fired off, and, as the captain took them on a little excursion, they saw the machine and the wheels in action; but they looked at all with the same calm, quiet air of acceptance, above, or perhaps one should rather say below, any emotion of surprise. For is not the readiness to receive new impressions, to be surprised, delighted, moved, one of the great gifts of the white race, as different from the impassiveness of the Indian as their varying complexion from the dark skin, which knows neither blush nor pallor? We could have but little conversation with these people, for, with the exception of the chief and one or two men who acted as interpreters, they spoke only the “lingua geral,” and did not understand Portuguese.

_December 15th._—After the Indians had left us yesterday, we proceeded on our way to another settlement, where we expected to find a considerable village. We arrived after dark, and some of the party went on shore; but they found only a grass-grown path and deserted houses. The whole population was in the forest. To-day, however, two or three canoesful of people have come off to the steamer to greet the President and receive their presents. Among them was an old woman who must have come originally from some more primitive settlement. The lower part of her face was tattooed in a bluish-black tint, covering the mouth and lower part of the cheeks to the base of the ears. Below this the chin was tattooed in a kind of network, no doubt considered very graceful and becoming in her day and generation. A black line was drawn across the nose, and from the outer corner of the eyes to the ears, giving the effect of a pair of spectacles. The upper part of the breast was tattooed in an open-work, headed by two straight lines drawn around the shoulders as if to represent a coarse lace finish, such as one constantly sees around the necks of their chemises. They left us at breakfast, and we are now on our way back to Mauhes, after a most interesting excursion.

_December 16th._—Mauhes. We arrived here yesterday at midday, and, as it happened, we found in the village an Indian and his wife, who, as specimens of the genuine Mundurucus, were more interesting than those we had visited. They came on trading business from a distant settlement some twenty days’ journey from Mauhes. The man’s whole face is tattooed in bluish black, this singular mask being finished on the edge by a fine, open pattern, about half an inch broad, running around the jaws and chin. His ears are pierced with very large holes, from which, when his costume is complete, pieces of wood are suspended, and his whole body is covered with a neat and intricate network of tattooing. At present, however, being in civilized regions, he is dressed in trousers and shirt. In the woman the mask of tattooing covers only the lowest part of the face, the upper part being free, with the exception of the line across the nose and eyes. Her chin and neck are also ornamented like that of the old woman we saw yesterday. They speak no Portuguese, and seem rather reluctant to answer the questions of the interpreter.

Mr. Agassiz has been very fortunate in collecting in this region. Although we are at so short a distance from Manaos, where he already knows the fishes tolerably well, he finds a surprising number of new genera and species about Mauhes and its neighborhood. As usual, wherever we go, everybody turns naturalist in his behalf. Our kind friend, the President, always ready to do everything in his power to facilitate his researches, has several boats out, manned by the best fishermen of the place, fishing for him. The commander, while his ship lies at anchor, has his men employed in the same way; and Mr. Michelis and his friends are also indefatigable. Occasionally, however, in the midst of his successes, he has to bear disappointments, arising from the ignorance and superstition of the working people. Ever since he came to the Amazons he has been trying to obtain a specimen of a peculiar kind of porpoise, native to these waters. It is, however, very difficult to obtain, because, being useless for food, there is nothing to induce the Indian to overcome the difficulty of catching it. Mr. Michelis has, however, impressed upon the fishermen the value of the prize, and, yesterday evening, just as we were rising from the dinner-table, it was announced that one was actually on its way up from the beach. Followed by the whole party of sympathizing friends,—for all had caught the infection,—Mr. Agassiz hastened out to behold his long-desired treasure; and there was his Boto, but sadly mutilated, for one Indian had cut off a piece of the fin as a cure for a sick person, another had taken out an eye as a love-charm, which, if it could be placed near the person of the girl he loved, would win him her favor, and so on. Injured as it was, Mr. Agassiz was, nevertheless, very glad to have the specimen; but he locked it up carefully for the night, not knowing what other titbits might be coveted by the superstitious inhabitants.

_December 18th._—In the midst of the zoölogical work, the collection of palms, which is now becoming very considerable, is not forgotten. This morning we went into the forest for the purpose of gathering young palms to compare with the full-grown ones, already cut down and put up for transportation. In these woods a thousand objects attract the eye, beside that which you especially seek. How many times we stopped to wonder at some lofty tree which was a world of various vegetation in itself, parasites established in all its nooks and corners, sipos hanging from its branches or twining themselves so close against the bark that they often seem as if sculptured on its trunk; or paused to listen to the quick rustle of the wind in palm-leaves fifty feet above our heads, not at all like the slow, gathering rush of the wind in pine-trees at home, but like rapidly running water. Through the narrow path an immense butterfly, of that vivid blue which excites our wonder in collections of Brazilian insects, came sailing towards us. He alighted in our immediate neighborhood, folding all his azure glories out of sight, and looking, when still, like a great brown moth, spotted with white. We crept softly nearer, but the first leaf trodden under foot warned him, and he was off again, dazzling us with the beauty of his wonderful coloring as he opened his wings and, bidding us a gay good-by, vanished among the trees. The sailing motion of these Morphos, though rapid, contrasts strikingly with the more fluttering flight of the Heliconians. The former give broad, strong strokes with their wide wings, the latter beat the air with quick, impatient, tremulous movements.

_December 20th._—This morning we left Mauhes, accompanied by our Mundurucu Indian and his wife. The President takes them to Manaos, in the hope of obtaining their portraits to enlarge Mr. Agassiz’s collection. I am interested in watching the deportment of these people, which is marked by a striking propriety that wins respect. They have remained in the seat where the Captain has placed them, not moving, except to bring their little baggage, from which the woman has taken out her work and is now busy in sewing, while her husband makes cigarette envelopes from a bark used by the Indians for this purpose;—certainly very civilized occupations for savages. As they speak no Portuguese, we can only communicate with them through the interpreter or through Mr. Coutinho, who has considerable familiarity with the “lingua geral.” They seem more responsive, more ready to enter into conversation now than when we first saw them; but the woman, when addressed, or when anything is offered to her, invariably turns to her husband, as if the decision of everything rested with him. It might be thought that the fantastic ornaments of these Indians would effectually disguise all pretence to beauty; but it is not so with this pair. Their features are fine, the build of the face solid and square, but not clumsy, and there is a passive dignity in their bearing which makes itself felt, spite of their tattooing. I have never seen anything like the calm in the man’s face; it is not the stolidity of dulness, for his expression is sagacious and observant, but a look of such abiding tranquillity that you cannot imagine that it ever has been or ever will be different. The woman’s face is more mobile; occasionally a smile lights it up, and her expression is sweet and gentle. Even her painted spectacles do not destroy the soft, drooping look in the eyes, very common among the Indian women here, and, as it would seem, characteristic of the women in the South American tribes; for Humboldt speaks of it in those of the Spanish provinces to the north.

Major Coutinho tells us that the tattooing has nothing to do with individual taste, but that the pattern is appointed for both sexes, and is invariable throughout the tribe. It is connected with their caste, the limits of which are very precise, and with their religion. The tradition runs thus, childish and inconsequent, like all such primitive fables. The first man, Caro Sacaibu, was also divine. Associated with him was his son, and an inferior being named Rairu, to whom, although he was as it were his prime minister and executed his commands, Caro Sacaibu was inimical. Among other stratagems he used to get rid of him was the following. He made a figure in imitation of a tatu (armadillo), and buried it partly in the earth, leaving only the tail exposed. He covered the tail with a kind of oil, which when touched adheres to the skin. He then commanded Rairu to drag the half-buried tatu out of its hole and bring it to him. Rairu seized it by the tail, but was of course unable to withdraw his hand, and the tatu, suddenly endowed with life by the Supreme Being, dived into the earth, dragging Rairu with him. The story does not say how Rairu found his way out of the earth again, but, being a spirit of great cunning and invention, he contrived to reach the upper air once more. On his return, he informed Caro Sacaibu that he had found in the earth a great many men and women, and that it would be an excellent thing to get them out to till the soil and make themselves useful above ground. This advice seems to have found favor in the sight of Caro Sacaibu, who forthwith planted a seed in the ground. From this seed sprang a cotton-tree, for into this fantastic tale is thus woven the origin of cotton. The tree throve and grew apace, and from the soft white contents of its pods Caro Sacaibu made a long thread, with one end of which Rairu descended once more into the earth by the same hole through which he had entered before. He collected the people together, and they were dragged up through the hole by means of the thread. The first who came out were small and ugly, but gradually they improved in their personal appearance, until at last the men began to be finely formed and handsome, and the women beautiful. Unfortunately, by this time the thread was much worn, and being too weak to hold them, the greater number of handsome people fell back into the hole and were lost. It is for this reason that beauty is so rare a gift in the world. Caro Sacaibu now separated the population he had thus drawn from the bowels of the earth, dividing them into different tribes, marking them with distinct colors and patterns, which they have since retained, and appointing their various occupations. At the end there remained over a residue, consisting of the ugliest, smallest, most insignificant representatives of the human race; to these he said, drawing at the same time a red line over their noses, “You are not worthy to be men and women,—go and be animals.” And so they were changed into birds, and ever since, the Mutums, with their red beaks and melancholy wailing voices, wander through the woods.

The tattooing of the Mundurucus is not only connected with this dim idea of a primitive creative command; it is also indicative of aristocracy. A man who neglected this distinction would not be respected in his tribe; and so strong is this traditional association, that, even in civilized settlements where tattooing is no longer practised, an instinctive respect is felt for this mark of nobility. A Mundurucu Indian, tattooed after the ancient fashion of his tribe, arriving in a civilized village, such as the one we visited, is received with the honor due to a person of rank. “Il faut souffrir pour être beau,” was never truer than among these savages. It requires not less than ten years to complete the tattooing of the whole face and body; the operation being performed, however, only at intervals. The color is introduced by fine puncturings over the whole surface; a process which is often painful, and causes swelling and inflammation, especially on such sensitive parts as the eyelids. The purity of type among the Mundurucus is protected by stringent laws against close intermarriages. The tribe is divided into certain orders or classes, more or less closely allied; and so far do they carry their respect for that law, which, though recognized in the civilized world, is so constantly sinned against, that marriage is forbidden, not only between members of the same family, but between those of the same order. A Mundurucu Indian treats a woman of the same order with himself as a sister; any nearer relation between them is impossible. Major Coutinho, who has made a very careful study of the manners and habits of these people, assures us that there is no law more sacred among them, or more rigidly observed, than this one. Their fine physique, for which they are said to be remarkable, is perhaps owing to this. They are free from one great source of degeneration of type. It is to be hoped that Major Coutinho, who, while making his explorations as an engineer on the Amazonian rivers, has also made a careful study of the tribes living along their margins, will one day publish the result of his investigations. It is to him we owe the greater part of the information we have collected on this subject.

Footnote 87:

I did not succeed in getting good likenesses of this Mundurucu pair. The above wood-cuts do no justice to their features and expression, though they give a faithful record of the peculiar mode of tattooing.—L. A.