PASSAGE OF THE RIVER AMAZON. (From the Narrative of a Journey from Lima to Para.)

(PRICE 24.

South America.

Narrative of a Journey from Lima to Para. By Lieutenant W. Smyth and Mr. F. Lowe, late of H. M. S. Samarang. [THE object of this adventurous journey, across the Andes and down the Amazon River, was to ascertain the practicability of a navigable communication with the Atlantic, by the Rivers Pachitea, Ucayali, and Amazon. The Expedition occupied eight months and ten days, and failed in its object; but the authors collected sufficient information in their journey to make their Narrative one of the most interesting books of the season. It is brim-full of entertaining enterprise and hair-breadth escape, and peril upon peril in mountain ascents and passages, through luxuriant forest-lands, and on rapid rivers. Thus, we have a storm-fraught journey across the Andes; a visit to the principal silvermines of Peru; river journeys in canoes; and descriptions of Indian tribes and towns, sublime scenery, with animated pictures from the wide-spreading pampas of the New World. From such a mine of a book we must extract

a few gems: first the subject of our Engraving; the Travellers on

An Island Passage of the Amazon. The period for our departure at length arrived; the Padre had completed the cargoes of sarsaparilla, tucuya, and manteca, or turtle-oil, which he was about to send to San Pablo, and we gave him almost all the trinkets and articles of barter which we had brought, in exchange for sarsaparilla and tucuya, which, he said, we should find a more general medium of exchange on the Maranon. We thought he made rather a hard bargain with us; but we had no great reason to complain.

Our stores were all stowed on board our garretea, which was forty-five feet long, and six feet wide in the broadest part, and narrowed more towards the stern than towards the bow; the bottom was of one piece, scooped out from the trunk of a large tree; it had no keel, and the sides were each of one piece, nailed to the bottom, and caulked with the bark of a tree, over which black bees-wax was smeared. The luggage and the arms of the Indians were stowed in the forepart of the vessel, under a low covering, or armayari, on each side of which were six seats for the paddlers, and under their seats were stowed ten large jars of masata belong. ing to them; in the centre was a small space left open for the well, and immediately abaft that was the cabin, formed by a pama cari. The steersman stood upon a projection at the stern, and steered the vessel very dex

terously with a paddle. We hoisted our flag upon a pole in front of the cabin; and when we and our stores were all on board, our gunwale was within six inches of the water. Our crew consisted of eleven men and a boy, and the Padre's nephew accompanied us as interpreter, and as supercargo of his uncle's consignments. We purchased from the Padre the provisions which were thought necessary to take us to San Pablo, such as fowls, turtle, plantains, dried fish, and some cakes made from Indian corn: our rowers were to provide for themselves.

At half-past ten we embarked; crowds of Indians sat upon the banks, watching our motions in silence, and probably wondering what could possibly have brought us amongst them, or to what part of the world we could be going. Our canoemen were in high spirits, and, upon our getting under weigh, were cheered by a general shout from the whole of the Indians on shore.

Scene in the Andes.

The ravine, as we ascended, gradually became more contracted, and the mountains again assumed a more rugged aspect, and rose to stupendous heights; the river rushing in small falls at our feet added very much to the wildness of the scene. The road then led along a level valley for about a league to a place called Pucahaca, when it again entered a narrow defile, and we passed over a bridge to the right bank of the stream. At this bridge there was a volume of water issuing with great force from the base of the rock: the cleft through which it rushed was in breadth about three or four feet. The air now felt very cold, and although we had put on warmer clothing on leaving Obragillo, yet still we felt the change sharply, and experienced what is vulgarly called the veta or marea, (sea-sickness,) which is an acute pain passing through the temples to the lower part of the back of the head, and which completely disables the person affected. Continuing our course, we passed over a natural bridge formed by the rock, under which the stream runs through an aperture about twelve feet wide; the surface is not much more than a foot above the level of the stream; soon after, on passing a high, bluff point, we opened the valley of Culluay, and arrived at the town at half-past three, P.M.

Culluay is 11,991 feet above the sea, and is still more inclosed by mountains than Obragillo, and, as it were, placed in the bottom of a basin through which a stream runs: it is a small village, and the inhabitants may amount to three hundred and fifty at most. The cottages are chiefly built with stone, though a few are mud and

thatched; most of the natives spoke only the Indian language: there are a few white inhabitants, who seemed a short, sturdy race.

Our mules having strayed during the night, it was late in the morning before we could start just as we were setting off, we were joined by Colonel Althaus and his companions; thus the whole party were assembled for the first time since leaving Lima, and we continued our route, in high spirits, towards the chain of those sublime and awful works of the Creator, the Andes!

Leaving the little valley of Culluay, our road, still ascending, kept close to the river, and, after passing the second bridge, we opened the view of the Cordilliera, or highest chain of the Andes. The view was most magnificent; the mountain called La Viuda appeared, between the nearer mountains, covered with snow. We now ascended far above the bed of the river, and directed our steps towards the summit of the mountain range. We felt the cold severely, the thermometer varying from 64° to 54°, and in a hailstorm down to 39°. We were now fast approaching the summit, and our road became very steep, rocky, and bad. We crossed several streams, and worked our way up to the top by zigzag paths, covered with large blocks of granite. After an hour's hard toil for the mules, we, at a quarter before three, gained the top or pass, called the Portachuelo de la Viuda, (or the little gate of the Viuda,) at an elevation of about 15,500 feet above the sea, the highest part of the mountain being 15,968. Here we saw beneath us mountains surrounding a beautifully transparent lake, over which a violent wind was driving huge masses of cloud. The scene was inexpressibly grand, and the words of Campbell flashed across our minds, most beautifully verified,

Where Andes, giant of the western star, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world. We stopped a short time to admire the splendid scene, and give rest to our beasts, as well as take our luncheon of bread and cheese, for which the keenness of the air had given us a great relish, and we sat down sheltered by a rock.

Vast Forests.

The forests, (or Montana, as they are called by the natives,) are composed of large trees of nearly all descriptions, with underwood of various kinds growing between; but not so impervious as to prevent their being easily penetrated in any direction with the assistance of a large knife, which we generally kept suspended from our waists. Some of these trees measured as much as four feet in diameter, and grew to the height of about fifty feet, perfectly straight, and without a branch, the top spreading out very thick and close. The Iqueron, or Matapalo,

as it is called in Spanish, from its destroying the trees to which it attaches itself, was frequent. It is a large creeper, which twines round the trunks and branches of trees; one species drops its branches to the ground and takes root, and throws up fresh shoots like the Indian Banyan, and from its resembling the pipes of an organ, is called the Organuyo. The thickness of the foliage affords at all times of the day a very agreeable shade: it protects the sportsman or traveller from the burning heat of a tropical sun, though it is often an impediment to the pursuits of the former.

Domestic Life at Sarayacu.

The entire domestic management is left to the women. The furniture and utensils consist of a considerable number of earthen jars, containing from twenty to thirty gallons each, in which water, chicha, and young turtle, are kept; several bowls made from calabashes; an axe, and two or three knives; bows, arrows, spears, lances, and cerbatanas, or blow-pipes; a few blocks of wood, a little hollowed out, to serve for seats; a piece of beaten bark for bedding, which is laid upon the platform, and a musquito curtain of hoinemade tucuya, sufficiently large to inclose the whole family; a few earthen pots for cooking, and a large wooden trough which they call a canoe, in which masata is made; a ladder to get at the plantains, which are suspended from the roof, and a few baskets to hold the raw and spun cotton. houses we saw a loom of a rude make, and a few cane boxes containing the trinkets and little implements of the lady of the housesuch as beads, needles, thread, &c.

In some

The articles of furniture are generally thrown about in the greatest disorder possible. The people have no conception of cleanliness or order, although in their persons they are cleanly from the constant habit of bathing. Labour falls to the lot of the wife alone, and she is kept in a state of constant drudgery, whilst her husband is hunting, or, if at home, idling away his time, half drunk, and swinging in a hammock.

When a marriage takes place, the husband clears a sufficient space of ground for a plantation of plantains; which is not, however, all his own work, for he gives an invitation to a party of his friends, who meet, and, over a jar of masata or chicha, decide on the place of the plantation; and on the following day they all assemble and clear it. When cleared, it is made over to the care of the woman, who, from that time, has the whole management of it. On the husband's return from hunting or fishing, his wife prepares his supper, which usually consists of boiled or broiled fish or turtle, with plantains dressed in the same way. The family all eat together, squatted on the ground, and dip in the

same dish with their fingers, or with the shell of a large oyster found in the lakes, which they use as a spoon, and for which it is a very good substitute; they have also a rude sort of wooden spoon. Their meals last but a short time. The children, when old enough, assist their mother in the work of the house; and the boys, when they have attained sufficient strength, accompany their father in hunting and fishing.

In the morning the woman rises first, and makes a hot mess of Indian corn for her husband's breakfast; and the rest of her day is fully occupied in preparing the food for the family, and in spinning and weaving the cloth for their clothes: a married woman has very little idle time on her hands. As they have no nightly employments, they retire to rest soon after sunset, having first sat a little while on a mat outside the house to cool

themselves.

The most tedious occupation of the husband is the making his canoes, which are commonly from thirty to forty feet long, and from three to five feet wide. It used formerly to take near a year to make one; but since the missionaries have introduced the use of iron, the work is accomplished in a much shorter space of time: this, and thatching and repairing his house, constitute the whole of his employment when at home.

There were no artisans, except a couple of blacksmiths, who worked for the padre, and a carpenter or two who could caulk a canoe, or repair it in a clumsy way. Tailors and shoemakers are unnecessary where almost all the people are nearly naked. Most families manufacture their own earthen vessels; in doing which they mix a bark, called apacarama, with the clay, which, when exposed to a strong heat, hardens it: the bark is first charred.

[The work is illustrated with several effective prints, a map and plan of the route, and clever wood-cuts.]

The Arctic Regions.

Narrative of the Arctic Land Expedition, to the Mouth of the Great Fish River, and along the Shores of the Arctic Ocean, in the years 1833, 1834, and 1835. By Captain Back, R. N.

[THIS is the plain, unvarnished narrative of the most interesting of the recent expeditions of discovery. It originated in a generous sympathy for the author's comrades in the boundless fields of enterprise, seconded by the noble desire of extending our acquaintance with the face of nature in the drear and inhospitable regions of the Arctic world. With the outline of the Expedition, the reader must already be acquainted;

but, it may here be mentioned, that the main object was the safety of Captain Ross and his companions; and in the event of that being rendered nugatory by the almost unlooked-for return of the voyagers, it was thought, "in our uncertainty of the precise place where the Thlew-ee-chohdesseth, (or Great Fish River,) might fall into the sea, that the coast-line between Point Turnagain and the known land to the eastward might be satisfactorily ascertained; and thus, another step be made towards the determination of that interesting problemthe northern limits of America." Rather than, with our narrow limits, attempt the filling-in of the outline, (already given in our twenty-sixth volume, page 206,) we shall convey to the reader some idea of the intense interest of Captain Back's Journal, by a few quotations of the perils and main incidents of his adventurous journey.]

Story of a Rat and Beaver.

When we got to a long and rounded mound, about half a mile from the western side, I observed that both the Indians assumed a look of superstitious awe, and main tained a determined silence. I inquired the reason of this reverential demeanour; when Maufelly, after some hesitation, with a face of great seriousness, informed us, that the small island we were passing was called the Rat's Lodge, from an enormous musk-rat which once inhabited it. "But what you see there," said he, pointing to a rock on the opposite shore, with a conical summit, "that is the Beaver's Lodge; and lucky shall we be if we are not visited with a gale of wind, or something worse. The chief would perhaps laugh at the story which our old men tell, and we believe, about that spot." He then proceeded to narrate, with great earnestness and solemnity of manner, a traditionary tale, which, as illustrative of Indian notions, may not be uninteresting to the reader. It was in substance as follows: "In that lodge there dwelt, in ancient times, a beaver as large as a buffalo; and, as it committed great depredations, sometimes alone, and sometimes it had enticed into a league, the bordering with the aid of its neighbour, the rat, whom tribes, who suffered from these marauding expeditions, resolved upon its destruction. Accordingly, having consulted together on the best mode of executing their design, and arranged a combined attack-not, however, unknown to the wary beaver, which, it seems, had a spy in the enemy's quarters-they set out one morning before the sun rose, and, under cover of a dense vapour which hung upon the lake, approached, with noiseless paddle, the shore of the solitary lodge. Not a whisper was heard, as each Indian cautiously took his station, and stood with bow or spear in act to strike. One, the Eagle