n be done with Indians; and negroes are few in number, the
slave-trade being abolished, emancipation begun, and the Paraguayan war
not ended. A laboring class will ever be a desideratum in this tropical
country. With a healthy climate,[141] and a situation at the juncture
of two great navigable rivers, Manaos is destined to become the St.
Louis of South America. In commercial advantages it is hardly to be
surpassed by any other city in the world, having water communication
with two thirds of the continent, and also with the Atlantic. It is now
the principal station for the Brazilian line of steamers. Here all goods
for a higher or lower point are reshipped. The chief articles of export
are coffee (of superior quality), sarsaparilla, Brazil nuts, piassaba,
and fish. The Negro at this point is really five or six miles wide, but
the opposite shore is masked by low islands, so that it appears to be
but a mile and a half.
[Footnote 139: Official returns for 1848 give 3614; Bates (1850) reckons
3000.]
[Footnote 140: Darwin met a similar specimen in Banda Oriental: "I asked
two men why they did not work. One gravely said the days were too long;
the other that he was too poor."]
[Footnote 141: It is, however, one of the warmest spots on the river.
The average temperature, according to Azevedo and Pinto, is only 79.7 deg.;
but the highest point readied on the Amazon in 1862 (87.3 deg.) was at
Manaos, and the extraordinary height of 95 deg. has been noted there.]
The country around Manaos is quite romantic for the Amazonian Valley.
The land is undulating and furrowed by ravines, and the vegetation
covering it is marvelously rich and diversified. In the forest, two
miles from the city, there is a natural curiosity celebrated by all
travelers from Spix and Martius down. A rivulet coming out of the
wilderness falls over a ledge of red sandstone ten feet high and fifty
feet broad, forming a beautiful cascade. The water is cool, and of a
deep orange color. The foundation of a fine stone cathedral was laid in
Manaos fourteen years ago, but this generation is not likely to witness
the dedication. Life in this Amazonian city is dull enough: commerce is
not brisk, and society is stiff; balls are about the only amusements. On
Sunday (the holiday) every body who can afford it comes out in Paris
fashions. There are carts, hut no coaches. We called upon the President
at his "Palace"--an odd term for a two-storied, whitewashed edifice.
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