nurse of Yaquita. She was one of the family. She thee-ed and thou-ed
both daughter and mother. The whole of this good creature’s life was
passed in these fields, in the middle of these forests, on that bank
of the river which bounded the horizon of the farm. Coming as a child
to Iquitos in the slave-trading times, she had never quitted the
village; she was married there, and early a widow, had lost her only
son, and remained in the service of Magalhaës. Of the Amazon she knew
no more than what flowed before her eyes.
With her, and more specially attached to the service of Minha, was a
pretty, laughing mulatto, of the same age as her mistress, to whom
she was completely devoted. She was called Lina. One of those gentle
creatures, a little spoiled, perhaps, to whom a good deal of
familiarity is allowed, but who in return adore their mistresses.
Quick, restless, coaxing, and lazy, she could do what she pleased in
the house.
As for servants they were of two kinds–Indians, of whom there were
about a hundred, employed always for the works of the fazenda, and
blacks to about double the number, who were not yet free, but whose
children were not born slaves. Joam Garral had herein preceded the
Brazilian government. In this country, moreover, the negroes coming
from Benguela, the Congo, or the Gold Coast were always treated with
kindness, and it was not at the fazenda of Iquitos that one would
look for those sad examples of cruelty which were so frequent on
foreign plantations.
CHAPTER IV
HESITATION
MANOEL WAS in love with the sister of his friend Benito, and she was
in love with him. Each was sensible of the other’s worth, and each
was worthy of the other.
When he was no longer able to mistake the state of his feelings
toward Minha, Manoel had opened his heart to Benito.
“Manoel, my friend,” had immediately answered the enthusiastic young
fellow, “you could not do better than wish to marry my sister. Leave
it to me! I will commence by speaking to the mother, and I think I
can promise that you will not have to wait long for her consent.”
Half an hour afterward he had done so.
Benito had nothing to tell his mother which she did not know; Yaquita
had already divined the young people’s secret.
Before ten minutes had elapsed Benito was in the presence of Minha.
They had but to agree; there was no need for much eloquence. At the
first words the head of the gentle girl was laid on her brother’s
shoulder, and the confession, “I am so happy!” was whispered from her
heart.
The answer almost came before the question; that was obvious. Benito
did not ask for more.
There could be little doubt as to Joam Garral’s consent. But if
Yaquita and her children did not at once speak to him about the
marriage, it was because they wished at the same time to touch on a
question which might be more difficult to solve. That question was,
Where should the wedding take place?
Where should it be celebrated? In the humble cottage which served for
the village church? Why not? Joam and Yaquita had there received the
nuptial benediction of the Padre Passanha, who was then the curate of
Iquitos parish. At that time, as now, there was no distinction in
Brazil between the civil and religious acts, and the registers of the
mission were sufficient testimony to a ceremony which no officer of
the civil power was intrusted to attend to.
Joam Garral would probably wish the marriage to take place at
Iquitos, with grand ceremonies and the attendance of the whole staff
of the fazenda, but if such was to be his idea he would have to
withstand a vigorous attack concerning it.
“Manoel,” Minha said to her betrothed, “if I was consulted in the
matter we should not be married here, but at Para. Madame Valdez is
an invalid; she cannot visit Iquitos, and I should not like to become
her daughter without knowing and being known by her. My mother agrees
with me in thinking so. We should like to persuade my father to take