verdure. The trunk of some ficus or mimosa was never covered by a
more startlingly tropical attire. What whimsical climbers–ruby red
and golden yellow, with variegated clusters and tangled twigs–turned
over the brackets, under the ridges, on the rafters of the roof, and
across the lintels of the doors! They had brought them wholesale from
the woods in the neighborhood of the fazenda. A huge liana bound all
the parasites together; several times it made the round of the house,
clinging on to every angle, encircling every projection, forking,
uniting, it everywhere threw out its irregular branchlets, and
allowed not a bit of the house to be seen beneath its enormous
clusters of bloom.
As a delicate piece of attention, the author of which can be easily
recognized, the end of the cipo spread out before the very window of
the young mulatto, as though a long arm was forever holding a bouquet
of fresh flowers across the blind.
To sum up, it was as charming as could be; and as Yaquita, her
daughter, and Lina were content, we need say no more about it.
“It would not take much to make us plant trees on the jangada,” said
Benito.
“Oh, trees!” ejaculated Minha.
“Why not?” replied Manoel. “Transported on to this solid platform,
with some good soil, I am sure they would do well, and we would have
no change of climate to fear for them, as the Amazon flows all the
time along the same parallel.”
“Besides,” said Benito, “every day islets of verdure, torn from the
banks, go drifting down the river. Do they not pass along with their
trees, bushes, thickets, rocks, and fields, to lose themselves in the
Atlantic eight hundred leagues away? Why, then, should we not
transform our raft into a floating garden?”
“Would you like a forest, miss?” said Fragoso, who stopped at
nothing.
“Yes, a forest!” cried the young mulatto; “a forest with its birds
and its monkeys—-”
“Its snakes, its jaguars!” continued Benito.
“Its Indians, its nomadic tribes,” added Manoel, “and even its
cannibals!”
“But where are you going to, Fragoso?” said Minha, seeing the active
barber making a rush at the bank.
“To look after the forest!” replied Fragoso.
“Useless, my friend,” answered the smiling Minha. “Manoel has given
me a nosegay and I am quite content. It is true,” she added, pointing
to the house hidden beneath the flowers, “that he has hidden our
house in his betrothal bouquet!”
CHAPTER IX
THE EVENING OF THE FIFTH OF JUNE
WHILE THE master’s house was being constructed, Joam Garral was also
busied in the arrangement of the out-buildings, comprising the
kitchen, and offices in which provisions of all kinds were intended
to be stored.
In the first place, there was an important stock of the roots of that
little tree, some six or ten feet in height, which yields the manioc,
and which form the principal food of the inhabitants of these
inter-tropical countries. The root, very much like a long black
radish, grows in clumps like potatoes. If it is not poisonous in
Africa, it is certain that in South America it contains a more
noxious juice, which it is necessary to previously get rid of by
pressure. When this result is obtained, the root is reduced to flour,
and is then used in many ways, even in the form of tapioca, according
to the fancy of the natives.
On board the jangada there was a huge pile of this useful product
destined for general consumption.
As for preserved meats, not forgetting a whole flock of sheep, kept
in a special stable built in the front, they consisted principally of
a quantity of the _”presunto”_ hams of the district, which are of
first-class quality; but the guns of the young fellows and of some of
the Indians were reckoned on for additional supplies, excellent
hunters as they were, to whom there was likely to be no lack of game
on the islands and in the forests bordering on the stream. The river
was expected to furnish its daily quota; prawns, which ought rather
to be called crawfish; _”tambagus,”_ the finest fish in the district,
of a flavor superior to that of salmon, to which it is often