os, and five hundred miles
from the sea.[143] It mainly consists of three long-rows of whitewashed,
tiled houses, girt with green gardens. The citizens, made up of
Brazilians, Portuguese, mulattoes, and blacks, number about two thousand
five hundred. The surrounding country, which is an undulating campo,
with patches of wood, is sparsely inhabited by Tapajocos. Cattle estates
and cacao plantations are the great investments, but the soil is poor.
Considerable sarsaparilla of superior quality, rubber, copaiba, Brazil
nuts, and farina come down the Tapajos. The climate is delightful, the
trade-winds tempering the heat and driving away all insect pests.
Leprosy is somewhat common among the poorer class. At Santarem is one of
the largest colonies which migrated from the disaffected Gulf States for
Brazil. One hundred and sixty Southerners pitched their tents here. Many
of them, however, were soon disgusted with the country, and, if we are
to believe reports, the country was disgusted with them. On the 1st of
January, 1868, only seventy-five remained. The colony does not fairly
represent the United States, being made up in great part of the "roughs"
of Mobile. A few are contented and are doing well. Amazonia will be
indebted to them for some valuable ideas. Bates says: "Butter-making is
unknown in this country; the milk, I was told, was too poor." But these
Anglo-Saxon immigrants have no difficulty in making butter. Santarem
sends to Para for sugar; but the cavaliers of Alabama are proving that
the sugar-cane grows better than in Louisiana, attaining the height of
twenty feet, and that it will yield for ten or twelve years without
transplanting or cultivation. It is not, however, so sweet or juicy as
the Southern cane. Some of the colonists are making tapioca and cashaca
or Brazilian rum; others have gone into the pork business; while one,
Dr. Jones, expects to realize a fortune burning lime. Here we met the
rebel ex-General Dobbins, who had been prospecting on the Tapajos River,
but had not yet located himself.

[Footnote 143: Herndon makes Santarem 460 miles from the Negro, and 650
from the sea. Bates calls it 400 miles from the Atlantic, and nearly 50
from Obidos.]

Below Santarem the Amazon vastly increases in width; at one point the
southern shore was invisible from the steamer. The waves often run very
high. At 10 A.M., eight hours from Santarem, we entered the romantic
port of Monte Alegre. The road from the river to