Chapter III: Pará

Although monkeys are now rare in a wild state near Pará, a great number may be seen semi-domesticated in the city. The Brazilians are fond of pet animals. Monkeys, however, have not been known to breed in captivity in this country. I counted, in a short time, thirteen different species, whilst walking about the Pará streets, either at the doors or windows of houses, or in the native canoes. Two of them I did not meet with afterwards in any other part of the country. One of these was the well-known Hapale Jacchus, a little creature resembling a kitten, banded with black and grey all over the body and tail, and having a fringe of long white hairs surrounding the ears. It was seated on the shoulder of a young mulatto girl, as she was walking along the street, and I was told had been captured in the island of Marajo. The other was a species of Cebus, with a remarkably large head. It had ruddy-brown fur, paler on the face, but presenting a blackish tuft on the top of the forehead.

In the wet season serpents are common in the neighbourhood of Pará. One morning, in April, 1849, after a night of deluging rain, the lamplighter, on his rounds to extinguish the lamps, woke me up to show me a boa-constrictor he had just killed in the Rua St. Antonio, not far from my door. He had cut it nearly in two with a large knife, as it was making its way down the sandy street. Sometimes the native hunters capture boa- constrictors alive in the forest near the city. We bought one which had been taken in this way, and kept it for some time in a large box under our verandah. This is not, however, the largest or most formidable serpent found in the Amazons region. It is far inferior, in these respects, to the hideous Sucurujú, or Water Boa (Eunectes murinus), which sometimes attacks man; but of this I shall have to give an account in a subsequent chapter.

It frequently happened, in passing through the thickets, that a snake would fall from the boughs close to me. Once for a few moments I got completely entangled in the folds of one, a wonderfully slender kind, being nearly six feet in length, and not more than half an inch in diameter at its broadest part. It was a species of Dryophis. The majority of the snakes seen were innocuous. One day, however, I trod on the tail of a young serpent belonging to a very poisonous kind, the Jararaca (Craspedocephalus atrox). It turned round and bit my trousers; and a young Indian lad, who was behind me, dexterously cut it through with his knife before it had time to free itself. In some seasons snakes are very abundant, and it often struck me as strange that accidents did not occur more frequently than was the case.

Amongst the most curious snakes found here were the Amphisbænæ, a genus allied to the slow-worm of Europe. Several species occur at Pará. Those brought to me were generally not much more than a foot in length. They are of cylindrical shape, having, properly speaking, no neck, and the blunt tail which is only about an inch in length, is of the same shape as the head. This peculiar form, added to their habit of wriggling backwards as well as forwards, has given rise to the fable that they have two heads, one at each extremity. They are extremely sluggish in their motions, and are clothed with scales that have the form of small imbedded plates arranged in rings round the body. The eye is so small as to be scarcely perceptible. They live habitually in the subterranean chambers of the Saüba ant; only coming out of their abodes occasionally in the night time. The natives call the Amphisbæna the “Mai das Saübas,” or Mother of the Saübas, and believe it to be poisonous, although it is perfectly harmless. It is one of the many curious animals which have become the subject of mythical stories with the natives. They say the ants treat it with great affection, and that if the snake be taken away from a nest, the Saübas will forsake the spot. I once took one quite whole out of the body of a young Jararaca, the poisonous species already alluded to, whose body was so distended with its contents that the skin was stretched out to a film over the contained Amphisbæna. I was, unfortunately, not able to ascertain the exact relation which subsists between these curious snakes and the Saüba ants. I believe however, they feed upon the Saübas, for I once found remains of ants in the stomach of one of them. Their motions are quite peculiar; the undilatable jaws, small eyes and curious plated integument also distinguish them from other snakes. These properties have evidently some relation to their residence in the subterranean abodes of ants. It is now well ascertained by naturalists, that some of the most anomalous forms amongst Coleopterous insects are those which live solely in the nests of ants, and it is curious that an abnormal form of snakes should also be found in the society of these insects.

The neighbourhood of Pará is rich in insects. I do not speak of the number of individuals, which is probably less than one meets with, excepting ants and termites, in summer days in temperate latitudes; but the variety, or in other words, the number of species, is very great. It will convey some idea of the diversity of butterflies when I mention that about 700 species of that tribe are found within an hour’s walk of the town; whilst the total number found in the British Islands does not exceed 66, and the whole of Europe supports only 321. Some of the most showy species, such as the swallow-tailed kinds, Papilio Polycaon, Thoas, Torquatus, and others, are seen flying about the streets and gardens; sometimes they come through the open windows, attracted by flowers in the apartments. Those species of Papilio which are most characteristic of the country, so conspicuous in their velvety-black, green, and rose-coloured hues, which Linnæus, in pursuance of his elegant system of nomenclature—naming the different kinds after the heroes of Greek mythology—called Trojans, never leave the shades of the forest. The splendid metallic blue Morphos, some of which measure seven inches in expanse, are generally confined to the shady alleys of the forest. They sometimes come forth into the broad sunlight. When we first went to look at our new residence in Nazareth, a Morpho Menelaus, one of the most beautiful kinds, was seen flapping its huge wings like a bird along the verandah. This species, however, although much admired, looks dull in colour by the side of its congener, the Morpho Rhetenor, whose wings, on the upper face, are of quite a dazzling lustre. Rhetenor usually prefers the broad sunny roads in the forest, and is an almost unattainable prize, on account of its lofty flight, for it very rarely descends nearer the ground than about twenty feet. When it comes sailing along, it occasionally flaps its wings, and then the blue surface flashes in the sunlight, so that it is visible a quarter of a mile off. There is another species of this genus, of a satiny-white hue, the Morpho Uraneis; this is equally difficult to obtain; the male only has the satiny lustre, the female being of a pale-lavender colour. It is in the height of the dry season that the greatest number and variety of butterflies are found in the woods; especially when a shower falls at intervals of a few days. An infinite number of curious and rare species may then be taken, most diversified in habits, mode of flight, colours, and markings: some yellow, others bright red, green, purple, and blue, and many bordered or spangled with metallic lines and spots of a silvery or golden lustre. Some have wings transparent as glass; one of these clear wings is especially beautiful, namely, the Hetaira Esmeralda. It has one spot only of opaque colouring on its wings, which is of a violet and rose hue; this is the only part visible when the insect is flying low over dead leaves in the gloomy shades where alone it is found, and it then looks like a wandering petal of a flower.

Bees and wasps are not especially numerous near Pará, and I will reserve an account of their habits for a future chapter. Many species of Mygale, those monstrous hairy spiders, half a foot in expanse, which attract the attention so much in museums, are found in sandy places at Nazareth. The different kinds have the most diversified habits. Some construct, amongst the tiles or thatch of houses, dens of closely-woven web, which, in its texture, very much resembles fine muslin; these are often seen crawling over the walls of apartments. Others build similar nests in trees, and are known to attack birds. One very robust fellow, the Mygale Blondii, burrows into the earth, forming a broad, slanting gallery, about two feet long, the sides of which he lines beautifully with silk. He is nocturnal in his habits. Just before sunset he may be seen keeping watch within the mouth of his tunnel, disappearing suddenly when he hears a heavy foot-tread near his hiding place. The number of spiders ornamented with showy colours was somewhat remarkable. Some double themselves up at the base of leaf-stalks, so as to resemble flower-buds, and thus deceive the insects on which they prey. The most extraordinary-looking spider was a species of Acrosoma, which had two curved bronze-coloured spines, an inch and a half in length, proceeding from the tip of its abdomen. It spins a large web, the monstrous appendages being apparently no impediment to it in its work; but what their use can be I am unable to divine.

Coleoptera, or beetles, at first seemed to be very scarce. This apparent scarcity has been noticed in other equatorial countries, and arises, probably, from the great heat of the sun not permitting them to exist in exposed situations, where they form such conspicuous objects in Europe. Many hundred species of the different families can be found when they are patiently searched for in the shady places to which they are confined. It is vain to look for the Geodephaga, or carnivorous beetles, under stones, or anywhere, indeed, in open, sunny places. The terrestrial forms of this interesting family, which abound in England and temperate countries generally, are scarce in the neighbourhood of Pará; in fact, I met with only four or five species; on the other hand, the purely arboreal kinds were rather numerous. The contrary of this happens in northern latitudes, where the great majority of the species and genera are exclusively terrestrial. The arboreal forms are distinguished by the structure of the feet, which have broad spongy soles and toothed claws, enabling them to climb over and cling to branches and leaves. The remarkable scarcity of ground beetles is, doubtless, attributable to the number of ants and Termites which people every inch of surface in all shady places, and which would most likely destroy the larvæ of Coleoptera. Moreover, these active creatures have the same functions as Coleoptera, and thus render their existence unnecessary. The large proportion of climbing forms of carnivorous beetles is an interesting fact, because it affords another instance of the arboreal character which animal forms tend to assume in equinoctial America, a circumstance which points to the slow adaptation of the fauna to a forest-clad country throughout an immense lapse of geological time.

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