“My ancestors,” began the hermit, “were among the first to land upon Brazil, after the country was taken possession of in the name of the King of Portugal, in the year 1500. In the first year of the century, Vincent Vanez Pin?on, a companion of the famed Columbus, discovered Brazil; and in the next year, Pedro Alvarez Cabral, a Portuguese commander, took possession of it in the name of the King of Portugal. In 1503, Americus Vespucius discovered the Bay of All Saints, and took home a cargo of Brazil-wood, monkeys and parrots; but no permanent settlement was effected upon the shores of the new continent and the rich treasures of this great country remained for some years longer buried and unknown to many—for the wild Indians who lived here knew not their value.
“It was on a dark and stormy night in the year 1510. A group of swarthy and naked savages encircled a small fire on the edge of the forest on the east coast of Brazil. The spot where their watch-fire was kindled is now covered by the flourishing city of Bahia. At that time it was a wilderness. Before them stretched the noble bay which is now termed Bahia de Todos Santos,—All Saints’ Bay.
“The savages talked earnestly and with excited looks as they stood upon the shore, for the memory of the wondrous ships of the white men that had visited them a few years before was deeply engraven on their minds; and now, in the midst of the howling storm, another ship was seen approaching their land. It was a small vessel, shattered and tempest-tossed, that drove into the Bahia de Todos Santos on that stormy night. Long had it battled with the waves of the Atlantic, and the brave hearts that manned it had remained stanch to duty and strong in hope, remembering the recent glorious example of Columbus. But the storm was fierce and the bark was frail. The top-masts were broken and the sails rent; and worst of all, just as land hove in sight and cheered the drooping spirits of the crew, a tremendous wave dashed upon the ship’s stern and carried away the rudder.
“As they drove helplessly before the gale towards the shore, the naked savages crowded down upon the beach and gazed in awe and astonishment at the mysterious ship. A few of them had seen the vessels of Americus Vespucius and Cabral. The rumour of the white men and their floating castle had been wafted far and wide along the coast and into the interior of Brazil, and with breathless wonder the natives had listened to the strange account. But now the vision was before them in reality. On came the floating castle, the white foam dashing from her bows, and the torn sails and ropes flying from her masts as she surged over the billows and loomed through the driving spray.
“It was a grand sight to see that ship dashing straight towards the shore at fearful speed; and those who looked on seemed to be impressed with a vague feeling that she had power to spring upon the strand and continue her swift career through the forest, as she had hitherto cleft her passage through the sea. As she approached, the savages shrank back in fear. Suddenly her frame trembled with a mighty shock. A terrible cry was borne to land by the gale, and all her masts went overboard. A huge wave lifted the vessel on its crest and flung her further on the shore, where she remained firmly fixed, while the waves dashed in foam around her and soon began to break her up. Ere this happened, however, a rope was thrown ashore and fastened to a rock by the natives. By means of this the crew were saved. But it would have been well for these bold navigators of Portugal if they had perished in the stormy sea, for they were spared by the ocean, only to be murdered by the wild savages, on whose shore they had been cast.
“All were slain save one,—Diego Alvarez Carreo, the captain of the ship. Before grasping the rope by which he reached the shore, he thrust several cartridges into his bosom and caught up a loaded musket. Wrapping the lock in several folds of cloth to keep it dry, he slid along the rope and gained the beach in safety. Here he was seized by the natives, and would no doubt have been barbarously slain with his unfortunate companions; but, being a very powerful man, he dashed aside the foremost, and, breaking through their ranks, rushed towards the wood. The fleet savages, however, overtook him in an instant, and were about to seize him when a young Indian woman interposed between them and their victim. This girl was the chief’s daughter, and respect for her rank induced them to hesitate for a moment; but in another instant the Portuguese captain was surrounded. In the scuffle that ensued, his musket exploded, but fortunately wounded no one. Instantly the horrified savages fled in all directions leaving Carreo alone!
“The captain was quick-witted. He knew that among hundreds of savages it was madness to attempt either to fight or fly, and the happy effect of the musket explosion induced him to adopt another course of action. He drew himself up proudly to his full height, and beckoned the savages to return. This they did, casting many glances of fear at the dreaded musket. Going up to one who, from his bearing and ornaments, seemed to be a chief, Carreo laid his musket on the sand, and, stepping over it so that he left it behind him, held out his hand frankly to the chief. The savage looked at him in surprise, and suffered the captain to take his hand and pat it; after which he began to examine the stranger’s dress with much curiosity. Seeing that their chief was friendly to the white man, the other savages hurried him to the camp-fire, where he soon stripped off his wet clothes and ate the food which they put before him. Thus Diego Carreo was spared.
“Next day, the Indians lined the beach and collected the stores of the wrecked vessel. While thus employed, Carreo shot a gull with his musket; which so astonished the natives that they regarded him with fear and respect, amounting almost to veneration. A considerable quantity of powder and shot was saved from the wreck, so that the captain was enabled to keep his ascendency over the ignorant natives; and at length he became a man of great importance in the tribe, and married the daughter of the chief. He went by the name of Caramuru,—‘The man of fire.’ This man founded the city of Bahia.
“The coasts of Brazil began soon after this to be settled in various places by the Portuguese; who, however, were much annoyed by the Spaniards, who claimed a share in the rich prize. The Dutch and English also formed settlements; but the Portuguese still retained possession of the country, and continued to prosper. Meanwhile Diego Caramuru, ‘the man of fire,’ had a son who in course of time became a prosperous settler; and as his sons grew up he trained them to become cultivators of the soil and traders in the valuable products of the New World. He took a piece of ground, far removed from the spot where his father had been cast ashore, and a short distance in the interior of the country. Here the eldest sons of the family dwelt laboured, and died, for many generations.
“In the year 1808 Portugal was invaded by Napoleon Buonaparte, and the sovereign of that kingdom, John the Sixth, fled to Brazil, accompanied by his court and a large body of emigrants. The king was warmly received by the Brazilians, and immediately set about improving the condition of the country. He threw open its ports to all nations; freed the land from all marks of colonial dependence; established newspapers; made the press free, and did everything to promote education and industry. But although much was done, the good was greatly hindered, especially in the inland districts, by the vice, ignorance, and stupidity of many of the Roman Catholic priests, who totally neglected their duties,—which, indeed, they were incompetent to perform,—and in many instances, were no better than miscreants in disguise, teaching the people vice instead of virtue.
“Foremost among the priests who opposed advancement, was a descendant of the ‘man of fire.’ Padre Caramuru dwelt for some years with an English merchant in the capital of Brazil, Rio de Janeiro. The padre was not an immoral man, but he was a fiery bigot and fiercely opposed everything that tended to advance the education of the people. This he did, firmly believing that education was dangerous to the lower orders. His church taught him, too, that the Bible was a dangerous book; and whenever a copy fell into his hands he immediately destroyed it. During the disturbances that took place after the time of King John’s departure for Portugal, and just before Brazil became an independent state under his son, the Emperor Don Pedro the First, Padre Caramuru lost a beloved and only brother. He was quite a youth, and had joined the army only a few months previously, at the desire of his elder brother the padre, who was so overwhelmed by the blow that he ceased to take an active part in church or political affairs and buried himself in a retired part of his native valley. Here he sought relief and comfort in the study of the beauties of Nature, by which he was surrounded, but found none.
“Then he turned his mind to the doctrines of his church, and took pleasure in verifying them from the Bible. But, as he proceeded, he found, to his great surprise, that these doctrines were, many of them, not to be found there; nay, further, that some of them were absolutely contradicted by the word of God.
“Padre Caramuru had been in the habit of commanding his people not to listen to the Bible when any one offered to read it; but in the Bible itself he found these words, ‘Search the Scriptures.’ He had been in the habit of praying to the Virgin Mary, and begging her to intercede with God for him; but in the Bible he found these words: ‘There is one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus.’ These things perplexed him much. But while he was thus searching, as it were, for silver, the ignorant padre found gold! He found that he did not require to work for salvation, but to ask for it. He discovered that the atonement had been made once for all by Jesus Christ the Lamb of God; and he read with a thrilling heart these words: ‘God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’
“Long and earnestly did the padre ponder these words and pray over them; and gradually the Holy Spirit enlightened his mind, and he saw how hateful that system was which could forbid or discourage the reading of the blessed word of God. He soon resolved to forsake the priesthood. But when he had done so, he knew not what to turn his hand to. He had no one like-minded to consult with, and he felt that it was wrong to eat the bread of idleness. Being thus uncertain what to do, he resolved in the meantime to carry goods into the interior of the country, and offer them for sale. The land round his dwelling and his own gun would supply him with food; and for the rest, he would spend his time in the study of the Bible, and seek for more light and direction from God.
“Such,” continued the hermit, “is a slight sketch of the history of my country and of myself.”
“Yourself?” exclaimed Martin.
“Yes. I am the Padre Caramuru, or rather I was. I am Padre no longer, but Senhor Carlos Caramuru, a merchant. Yet I know not what to do. When I look round upon my country, and see how they know not the precious word of God, my heart burns in me, and I sometimes think that it is my duty to go forth and preach.”
“No doubt ye are right,” said Barney. “I’ve always bin of opinion that when a man feels very strong in his heart on any partic’lar subject it’s a sure sign that the Almighty intends him to have something more to do with that subject than other men who don’t feel about it at all.”
The hermit remained silent for a few minutes. “I think you are right, friend,” he said; “but I am very ignorant yet. I have no one to explain difficulties to me; and I fear to go about preaching, lest I should preach what is not true. I will study yet for a time, and pray. After that perhaps, I may go forth.”
“But you have told us nothing yet about the trade of the country,” said Martin, “or its size, or anything of that sort.”
“I will soon tell you of that, when I have lighted another cigar. This one does not draw well. Have you got a full pipe still, my friend?”
“All right, Mr Carrymooroo,” replied Barney, knocking out the ashes. “I’ll jist load wance more, and then,—fire away.”
In a few minutes the big cigar and short pipe were in full play, and the hermit continued:—
“This country is very large and very rich, but it is not well worked. The people are lazy, many of them, and have not much enterprise. Much is done, no doubt; but very much more might be done.
“The empire of Brazil occupies nearly one half of the whole continent of South America. It is 2600 miles long, and 2500 miles broad; which, as you know perhaps, is a little larger than all Europe. The surface of the country is beautiful and varied. The hilly regions are very wild, although none of the mountains are very high, and the woods are magnificent; but a great part of the land consists of vast grassy plains, which are called llanos, or campos, or silvas. The campos along the banks of the River Amazon are equal to six times the size of France; and there is one great plain which lies between the Sierra Ibiapaba and the River Tocantins which is 600 miles long by 400 miles broad. There are very few lakes in Brazil, and only one worth speaking of—the Lagoa dos Platos—which is 150 miles long. But our rivers are the finest in the whole world, being so long, and wide, and deep, and free from falls, that they afford splendid communication with the interior of the land. But alas! there are few ships on these rivers yet, very few. The rivers in the north part of Brazil are so numerous and interlaced that they are much like the veins in the human body; and the great River Amazon and a few of its chief tributaries resemble the arteries.
“Then as to our produce,” continued the hermit, “who can tell it all? We export sugar, and coffee, and cotton, and gold, silver, lead, zinc, quicksilver, and amethysts, and we have diamond mines—”
“Di’mond mines!” echoed Barney; “och, but I would like for to see them. Sure they would sparkle most beautiful. Are they far off, Mr Carrymooroo?”
“Yes, very far off. Then we export dye-woods, and cabinet-woods, and drugs, and gums, and hides,—a great many hides, for the campos are full of wild cattle, and men hunt them on horseback, and catch them with a long rope called the lasso.”
“How I should like to have a gallop over these great plains,” murmured Martin.
“Then we have,” continued the hermit, “rice, tapioca, cocoa, maize, wheat, mandioca, beans, bananas, pepper, cinnamon, oranges, figs, ginger, pine-apples, yams, lemons, mangoes, and many other fruits and vegetables. The mandioca you have eaten in the shape of farina. It is very good food; one acre gives as much nutriment as six acres of wheat.
“Of the trees you have seen something. There are thousands of kinds, and most magnificent. Some of them are more than thirty feet round about. There are two hundred different kinds of palms, and so thick stand the giant trees in many places, with creeping-plants growing between, that it is not possible for man to cut his way through the forests in some parts. Language cannot describe the grandeur and glory of the Brazilian forests.
“We have numbers of wild horses, and hogs, and goats; and in the woods are tiger-cats, jaguars, tapirs, hyenas, sloths, porcupines, and—but you have seen many things already. If you live you will see more. I need not tell you of these things; very soon I will show you some.
“The population of my country consists of the descendants of Portuguese settlers, native Indians, and Negroes. Of the latter, some are free, some slaves. The Indians go about nearly naked. Most of them are in a savage state: they paint their skins, and wear gaudy ornaments. The religion of the country is Roman Catholic, but all religions are tolerated; and I have much hope for the future of Brazil, in spite of the priests.”
“And do ye git much out o’ the di’mond mines?” inquired Barney, whose mind was running on this subject.
“O yes, a great deal. Every year many are got, and Government gets one-fifth of the value of all the gold and diamonds found in the country. One diamond was found a short time ago which was worth 40,000 pounds.”
“Ye don’t say so!” exclaimed Barney in great surprise, as he blew an immense cloud of smoke from his lips. “Now, that’s extror’nary. Why don’t everybody go to the mines and dig up their fortin at wance?”
“Because men cannot eat diamonds,” replied the hermit gravely.
“Troth, I niver thought o’ that; ye’re right.”
Martin laughed heartily as he lay in his hammock and watched his friend’s expression while pondering this weighty subject.
“Moreover,” resumed the hermit, “you will be surprised to hear that diamond and gold finding is not the most profitable employment in the country.
“The man who cultivates the ground is better off than anybody. It, is a fact a very great fact, a fact that you should get firmly fixed in your memory—that in less than two years the exports of sugar and coffee amounted to more than the value of all the diamonds found in eighty years. Yes, that is true. But the people of Brazil are not well off. They have everything that is necessary to make a great nation; but we are not a great nation, far from it.” The hermit sighed deeply as he ceased speaking, and fell into an abstracted frame of mind.
“It’s a great country intirely,” said Barney, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and placing that much-loved implement carefully in his pocket; “a great country, but there’s a tremendous big screw loose somewhere.”
“It seems curious to me,” said Martin, in a ruminating tone of voice, “that people should not get on better in a country, in which there is everything that man can desire, to make him rich and happy. I wonder what it wants; perhaps it’s too hot and the people want energy of character.”
“Want energy!” shouted the hermit leaping from his seat, and regarding his guests for a few moments with a stern expression of countenance; then, stretching forth his hand, he continued, in an excited tone: “Brazil does not want energy; it has only one want,—it wants the Bible! When a country is sunk down in superstition and ignorance and moral depravity, so that the people know not right from wrong, there is only one cure for her,—the Bible. Religion here is a mockery and a shame; such as, if it were better known, would make the heathen laugh in scorn. The priests are a curse to the land, not a blessing. Perhaps they are better in other lands,—I know not; but well I know they are, many of them, false and wicked here. No truth is taught to the people,—no Bible is read in their ears; religion is not taught,—even morality is not taught; men follow the devices and desires of their own hearts, and there is no voice raised to say, ‘You are doing wrong.’ My country is sunk very low; and she cannot hope to rise, for the word of her Maker is not in her hand. True, there are a few, a very few Bibles in the great cities; but that is all: that cannot save her hundreds of towns and villages. Thousands of her people are slaves in body,—all, all are slaves in soul; and yet you ask me what she wants. Ha! she wants truth, she wants to be purged of falsehood. She has bones and muscles, and arteries and veins,—everything to make a strong and healthy nation; but she wants blood,—she has no vital stream; yes, Brazil, my country, wants the Bible!”
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