Jules Verne by Eight Hundred Leagues on the Amazon

abandoned
the district to take refuge among some of the distant tributaries, and
the Maoos have quitted its banks to wander in their diminished numbers
among the forests of Japura.
    The Tunantins is almost depopulated, and there are only a few families
of wandering Indians at the mouth of the Jurua. The Teffé is almost
deserted, and near the sources of the Japur there remained but the
fragments of the great nation of the Umaüa. The Coari is forsaken. There
are but few Muras Indians on the banks of the Purus. Of the ancient
Manaos one can count but a wandering party or two. On the banks of the
Rio Negro there are only a few half-breeds, Portuguese and natives,
where a few years ago twenty-four different nations had their homes.
    Such is the law of progress. The Indians will disappear. Before the
Anglo-Saxon race Australians and Tasmanians have vanished. Before the
conquerors of the Far West the North American Indians have been wiped
out. One day perhaps the Arabs will be annihilated by the colonization
of the French.
    But we must return to 1852. The means of communication, so numerous now,
did not then exist, and the journey of Joam Garral would require not
less than four months, owing to the conditions under which it was made.
    Hence this observation of Benito, while the two friends were watching
the river as it gently flowed at their feet:
    "Manoel, my friend, if there is very little interval between our arrival
at Belem and the moment of our separation, the time will appear to you
to be very short."
    "Yes, Benito," said Manoel, "and very long as well, for Minha cannot by
my wife until the end of the voyage."

Chapter VI - A Forest on the Ground
*
    THE GARRAL family were in high glee. The magnificent journey on the
Amazon was to be undertaken under conditions as agreeable as possible.
Not only were the fazender and his family to start on a voyage for
several months, but, as we shall see, he was to be accompanied by a part
of the staff of the farm.
    In beholding every one happy around him, Joam forgot the anxieties which
appeared to trouble his life. From the day his decision was taken he had
been another man, and when he busied himself about the preparations
for the expedition he regained his former activity. His people rejoiced
exceedingly at seeing him again at work. His moral self reacted against
his physical self, and Joam again became the active, energetic man of
his earlier years, and moved about once more as though he had spent
his life in the open air, under the invigorating influences of forests,
fields, and running waters.
    Moreover, the few weeks that were to precede his departure had been well
employed.
    At this period, as we have just remarked, the course of the Amazon was
not yet furrowed by the numberless steam vessels, which companies were
only then thinking of putting into the river. The service was worked by
individuals on their own account alone, and often the boats were only
employed in the business of the riverside establishments.
    These boats were either
"ubas,"
canoes made from the trunk of a tree,
hollowed out by fire, and finished with the ax, pointed and light in
front, and heavy and broad in the stern, able to carry from one to
a dozen paddlers, and of three or four tons burden:
"egariteas,"
constructed on a larger scale, of broader design, and leaving on each
side a gangway for the rowers: or
"jangada,"
rafts of no particular
shape, propelled by a triangular sail, and surmounted by a cabin of mud
and straw, which served the Indian and his family for a floating home.
    These three kinds of craft formed the lesser flotilla of the Amazon, and
were only suited for a moderate traffic of passengers or merchandise.
    Larger vessels, however, existed, either
"vigilingas,"
ranging from
eight up to ten tons, with three masts rigged with red sails, and which
in calm weather were rowed by four long paddles not at all easy to work
against the stream; or
"cobertas,"
of twenty tons burden, a kind
of junk with a