Mr Robarts was a very merry, kind person, and we spent a very pleasant life on board the little _Andorinha_.  We put into several of the large rivers, as the object of Mr Robarts was to collect some of the wildest productions of the country from the natives inhabiting their banks. When, we entered the Amazon, I could scarcely believe that we were in a river, so wide and grand is the stream.  The colour of the water, however, showed us that it was really a river we were in.  We had gone up for some considerable distance, a strong breeze enabling us to battle with the current, when at length we came to an anchor near the shore. About a hundred and fifty miles up is the Brazilian town of Para--a complete sea-port, though not equal in size to Pernambuco.  We, however, having a favourable breeze, went much further up the main stream, and then turned into one of the numerous rivers which fall into it.  Here Mr Robarts expected to remain some little time to trade with the natives.  I had been below, when, on returning on deck, I heard Gerard laughing heartily, and pointing to a boat which was proceeding up the stream.  In the fore-part was a thatched shed, on either side of which sat four natives paddling.  In the after-part was another shed of bamboo and grass, under which sat the passengers.  On the top of all was the helmsman--a naked savage, lying his full length, and steering with his feet, under a sun which would quickly have cooked a beef-steak exposed to it.  Mr Robarts told us that the boat or canoe was called an egaritea, and that it was the canoe usually employed for the conveyance of travellers on the Amazon.  Again we laughed at the helmsman, who seemed perfectly unconcerned, as, holding on to the bamboo roof with one hand, he rested his black head on the other, just high enough to let him look about in every direction.  Mr Robarts could not leave the schooner; but as Mr McRitchie and we were very anxious to see as much of the interior of this wonderful country as possible, we arranged to go up in an egaritea as far as time would allow.  Mr Robarts allowed us to take a half-caste native, who had served on board a British ship and spoke a little English, as our interpreter.  He was called Pedro, but he had a much longer Indian name, which I do not remember.  Away we started, in high glee, with blankets, a supply of provisions, and a few cooking utensils, with plates, cups, knives, and forks.  We could not help laughing whenever we thought of our araies, or chief boatman, lying at his length above us, steering with his feet.  This mode of travelling we found very comfortable--almost too luxurious for our tastes--and tolerably expeditious.  I should say that we all had our guns, and that McRitchie had, besides, his sketch-book, and boxes and cases for collecting subjects of natural history.  The difficulty in this region was to know what to select.  The water abounded with all sorts of strange fish, and turtles and alligators innumerable.  I must say, when I first saw one of these hideous monsters, I felt an awe creeping over me, though the natives did not seem to care a bit about them.  We had got to the end of our voyage in the egaritea, and arranged to hire a light open canoe, with two men as rowers, in which we could proceed up some of the smaller rivers.  Nothing could surpass the luxuriance of the foliage, which not only lined their banks, but extended a long way inland, strange birds of all sizes, from the diminutive humming-bird to others of immense bulk, of the most gorgeous plumage, flew about among the trees; while, as we paddled along, we heard the most curious chatterings, and now and then, if we remained quiet for a few minutes, we could see hundreds of little black and brown and yellow faces, with bright eyes peering at us from among the boughs.  The slightest movement or noise made by us would send them scampering off along the branches, or rather swinging themselves by hands and tails from bough to bough, or from creeper to creeper, that being their favourite mode of locomotion. They were clean, nice, respectable-looking little fellows, quite unlike monkeys cooped up in menageries, or even in the Zoological Gardens, and seemed to lead very happy and joyous lives.  Gerard declared that if he was not a human being really, the next best state of existence he should desire would be that of a monkey on the banks of the Amazon.  We were not aware at the time of certain facts, which afterwards came to our knowledge, which might detract somewhat from the desirability of the existence; among others, that the natives shoot and eat the poor little fellows with as little compunction as we should young pigs or fowls.