On Sunday last, being Advent Sunday, I went to church, not having been for two months, and though everything is so different to what one is accustomed to, I dislike much the idea of never entering a place of worship for so many months, and there is no alternative; besides which, it is a good example to my men, and people like to meet me at church, as every one is most punctual in his attendance.

I took advantage of the long ride, mostly along the valley of the Camapuão, to explore the best route for my line, and found that I shall have to cross the river several times. The third crossing is at a disagreeable spot. There is first a marsh, which is very awkward to traverse; it is some sixty feet wide. I tried to cross it, but sank over the long boots and got a soaking; then I set to work to have a lot of branches cut down and thrown in, until at last one could cross with a few inches of water only. Beyond the marsh is a belt of thick capoeira some eighty feet wide; and then we reached the river, which was so swollen by the rains that I had to go two miles down stream, where a tree-trunk thrown across affords a passage.

The rain, as we were led to expect, delays the progress of the work, and though one may try to work in a steady rain, it is really impracticable; the spider's web in one of our levels broke after one day's persevering work in a drizzle. Neither can one work at the setting out and cutting picadas without being chilled to the bone, as when the temperature is below 70° it feels very cold. To-day, in spite of threatening clouds, we started work; but soon a drizzle began, then at nine came a heavy shower, while at ten the rain came down in right earnest, vertically and by bucketfuls, so we were obliged, after trying a little longer,

to return in a drowned-rat condition to the tents by eleven. There have now (December 8) been three days of almost ceaseless rain.

December 12.-Last night we had another terrific storm. Many of the cords tying down the tent gave way, pulling out the pegs, the poles rocked backwards and forwards, the rain beat in through the door-flaps on to our beds and poured along the floor. We stood with our arms pressed against the top of the tent, so as to lessen the collapse if the poles should break. When the little hurricane had passed, in about a quarter of an hour, I went to look up the men in their tent, made two of them cut new pegs and, by the fitful yet dazzling lightning, refix our cords, while others attended to their own tent. They are so lazy that they would allow the tent to fall about their ears before they would think of repairing any broken ropes or uprooted pegs.

When the rain ceases, in the daytime it is very steamy and oppressive, especially near the marshes along the banks of the river. The steamy damp is most enervating, and I feel the effect of it to a certain extent; for it has a tendency to make one wish to do no more than is absolutely necessary. If this went on long, and I were to continue in camp, I have little doubt that my home correspondence would dwindle down to very small proportions. It is one thing to be, in the tropics, indoors all day in a cool, dark, well-ventilated house, and quite another thing to get up early and work continuously out of doors under a sun which gradually creeps up in the sky till it is invisible, being at the zenith. One is surrounded by a thousand insects, mosquitos and wasps, and one longs for a drop of water; but the rivers are the colour that the Red Sea ought to be, and withal lukewarm. I do not so much mind

swallowing half an ounce of mud in a pint of water, but I do object to drinking tepid water.

Camp near Village of Camapuão.

December 23.-On the 20th we shifted camp to this village, some eight miles nearer Brumado. I must first tell you one or two incidents which took place before leaving our former site.

We had a visit one Sunday from Senhor Sidney, of the Fazenda Boa Vista, and a brother-in-law, Antonio, from the Fazenda do Cortume. We talked about England, its commerce, machinery, coal, iron, etc. I could not make them understand what coal is;* they had never seen it, and I could hardly give a geological lecture in Portuguese !

I told the Capitão Sidney that they should not leave so much land uncultivated. He replied that the Brazilians are not energetic or enterprising; that it requires Englishmen for that; that they plant coffee, and sow cotton, beans, Indian corn, sugar, etc., for their own use, or sufficient to keep themselves alive, and breed horses and mules and cattle. They are very lazy, and prefer sitting on their heels smoking cigarettes, appearing to consider that work is only for slaves and women.

Another day I met the capitão on horseback just returning from Queluz, where he had been attending the courts as a juror. He told me that the jury, consisting of twelve, is chosen from a list of forty men; they get no pay, and attendance is compulsory, under a fine of fifty milreis. Regarding the state of crime, he said there are no murderers, or robbers, or thieves here among the natives or blacks, though a chicken or two may be taken from time to time; but occasionally some of the Italians or other foreigners, * Carvão de pedra (Portuguese). Carvão is charcoal.