第6章
- The Naturalist on the River Amazons
- Henry Walter Bates
- 904字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:10
Amongst them were several handsome women dressed in a slovenly manner, barefoot or shod in loose slippers, but wearing richly-decorated earrings, and around their necks strings of very large gold beads.They had dark expressive eyes, and remarkably rich heads of hair.It was a mere fancy, but I thought the mingled squalor, luxuriance and beauty of these women were pointedly in harmony with the rest of the scene-- so striking, in the view, was the mixture of natural riches and human poverty.The houses were mostly in a dilapidated condition, and signs of indolence and neglect were visible everywhere.The wooden palings which surrounded the weed-grown gardens were strewn about and broken;hogs, goats, and ill-fed poultry wandered in and out through the gaps.
But amidst all, and compensating every defect, rose the overpowering beauty of the vegetation.The massive dark crowns of shady mangos were seen everywhere amongst the dwellings, amidst fragrant blossoming orange, lemon, and many other tropical fruit trees, some in flower, others in fruit, at varying stages of ripeness.Here and there, shooting above the more dome-like and sombre trees, were the smooth columnar stems of palms, bearing aloft their magnificent crowns of finely-cut fronds.Amongst the latter the slim assai-palm was especially noticeable, growing in groups of four or five; its smooth, gently-curving stem, twenty to thirty feet high, terminating in a head of feathery foliage, inexpressibly light and elegant in outline.On the boughs of the taller and more ordinary-looking trees sat tufts of curiously-leaved parasites.Slender, woody lianas hung in festoons from the branches, or were suspended in the form of cords and ribbons;whilst luxuriant creeping plants overran alike tree-trunks, roofs and walls, or toppled over palings in a copious profusion of foliage.The superb banana (Musa paradisiaca), of which I had always read as forming one of the charms of tropical vegetation, grew here with great luxuriance-- its glossy velvety-green leaves, twelve feet in length, curving over the roofs of verandahs in the rear of every house.The shape of the leaves, the varying shades of green which they present when lightly moved by the wind, and especially the contrast they afford in colour and form to the more sombre hues and more rounded outline of the other trees, are quite sufficient to account for the charm of this glorious tree.
Strange forms of vegetation drew our attention at almost every step.Amongst them were the different kinds of Bromelia, or pineapple plants, with their long, rigid, sword-shaped leaves, in some species jagged or toothed along their edges.Then there was the bread-fruit tree--an importation, it is true; but remarkable from its large, glossy, dark green, strongly digitated foliage, and its interesting history.Many other trees and plants, curious in leaf, stem, or manner of growth, grew on the borders of the thickets along which lay our road; they were all attractive to newcomers, whose last country ramble of quite recent date was over the bleak moors of Derbyshire on a sleety morning in April.
As we continued our walk the brief twilight commenced, and the sounds of multifarious life came from the vegetation around.The whirring of cicadas; the shrill stridulation of a vast number and variety of field crickets and grasshoppers, each species sounding its peculiar note; the plaintive hooting of tree frogs--all blended together in one continuous ringing sound--the audible expression of the teeming profusion of Nature.As night came on, many species of frogs and toads in the marshy places joined in the chorus-- their croaking and drumming, far louder than anything I had before heard in the same line, being added to the other noises, created an almost deafening din.This uproar of life, I afterwards found, never wholly ceased, night or day.In the course of time I became, like other residents, accustomed to it.It is, however, one of the peculiarities of a tropical--at least, a Brazilian--climate which is most likely to surprise a stranger.After my return to England, the deathlike stillness of summer days in the country appeared to me as strange as the ringing uproar did on my first arrival at Para.The object of our visit being accomplished, we returned to the city.The fire-flies were then out in great numbers, flitting about the sombre woods, and even the frequented streets.We turned into our hammocks, well pleased with what we had seen, and full of anticipation with regard to the wealth of natural objects we had come to explore.
During the first few days, we were employed in landing our baggage and arranging our extensive apparatus.We then accepted the invitation of Mr.Miller to make use of his rocinha, or country-house in the suburbs, until we finally decided on a residence.Upon this, we made our first essay in housekeeping.We bought cotton hammocks, the universal substitute for beds in this country, cooking utensils and crockery, and engaged a free negro, named Isidoro, as cook and servant-of-all-work.
Our first walks were in the immediate suburbs of Para.The city lies on a corner of land formed by the junction of the river Guama with the Para.As I have said before, the forest, which covers the whole country, extends close up to the city streets;indeed, the town is built on a tract of cleared land, and is kept free from the jungle only by the constant care of the Government.