134 MARTIN RATTLER.

of the motley crowd through which our adventurers
elbowed their way, gazing curiously on the strange
scene, which seemed to them more like a dream
than a reality, after their long sojourn in the soli-
tudes of the forest. Processions headed by long-robed
priests with flambeaux and crucifixes; young girls in
light costumes and long white cotton shawls, selling
sweet cakes of mandioca flour and bonbons; swarthy
Brazilians, some in white jackets, loose cotton drawers,
and straw hats, others in brown leather boots and
ponchos ; Negroes in short white drawers and shirts,
besides many without any clothing above their waists ;
Indians from the interior, copper-coloured, and some
of them, fine-looking men, having only a strip of
cloth about their loins ;—such were the strange crew
whose loud voices, added to the whiz of rockets, squibs,
crackers, guns, and musical instruments, created a
deafening noise.

In the midst of the village there was a tree of such
enormous size that it quite took our travellers by
surprise. It was a wild fig-tree, capable of sheltering
a thousand persons under its shadow! Here a spirited
fandango was going on, and they stood for some time
watching the movements of the performers. Growing
tired of this, they wandered about until they came to
a less crowded part of the village, and entered a