Marajó

This tract is almost equally divided into two regions: that in the southwest, covered with dense tropical forest, and the northeastern half, consisting of vast, open grazing ground where thousands of cattle are raised.

The objects of my expedition to Marajo were to study the natural history of the island and to make a collection of zoological specimens for the British Museum. I also hoped to bring back a number of living reptiles, birds, and mammals for the Zoological Society of London.

Moreover, I was glad to have the chance of observing the life and customs of the natives, for Marajo's interior is seldom visited by travelers, and little has been published about it.

The expedition was made possible by the hospitality of Dr. Demetrio N. Bezerra, who allowed me to stay as a guest on his ranch.

One Saturday night in November I found myself on shipboard preparing for my first voyage in an Amazon River steamer. We were to leave Belém (Pará) at midnight for Soure, chief town of Marajo.

There are two decks on these ships, the upper reserved for first-class passengers, the lower accommodating engine, baggage, cattle, and second-class passengers. Above the top deck is a flat roof provided with a number of metal rails which run along the ship from end to end, serving as supports for the hammocks, for everyone supplies his own and hangs it up wherever there is a vacant spot.

I was closely surrounded by a curious mixture of people-smartly dressed citizens off for a week-end holiday, ranch owners, priests, cowboys, women with squealing babies, negroes, and other samples of the life of the place, all swinging in hammocks of every size, shape, and color.

Conditions had not improved by 4 o'clock the next morning, for we were now well out in the river, which is here about 20 miles wide, and usually very rough at this time of the year.

The ship was rolling in a horrible manner, so that everyone swung and crashed into his neighbor's hammock. One minute I bumped into the girl on my right, and the next my left-hand companion would be trying to thrust his shoes down my throat!

I was, therefore, not altogether sorry when we came alongside the little wooden landing stage an hour later.

I was met by my host, who has a house close to the waterside. Here we had breakfast, and soon afterward I went out to investigate the surroundings.

Soure's gaily painted houses, with their red-tiled roofs, are laid out in squares on either side of the broad, unpaved streets, which are many inches deep in soft sand. Along the center of each of these highways is a row of fine mango trees. The inhabitants bring out chairs and sit in their shade for hours at a time. These mango trees are also highly appreciated by large flocks of golden-headed parakeets, which keep up an incessant chatter and screaming overhead.

Outside many of the houses small red flags were flying, signs to show that either meat or assahy, the native drink, was for sale within.

Assahy is made from the fruit of the assahy, or assai palm. The round, purplish fruits, each about the size of a marble, consist of an outer skin and a large hard stone almost immediately beneath. Between stone and skin is a thin layer of pulp, used in making the beverage, so that a large quantity of the fruits is…"