Our Little Brazilian Cousin

CHAPTER IX

THE COFFEE PLANTATION

The Senhor Lopez' business was to export coffee, as that of his brother-in-law was to export rubber. He had a large coffee fazenda in Sao Paulo, the province of Brazil most devoted to coffee raising, and he often went there to inspect the plantation. He suggested therefore that his wife, his sister, and the children should spend a week with him at the fazenda, and the two mothers decided to do so, knowing how much pleasure it would give the little folk. It was an all day's ride to Sao Paulo, but there was so much to see as the train moved over the plains, across rivers and through forests and hills, that the children did not find it tiresome, and were very bright and gay as, just at sunset, they neared Sao Paulo.

"This is one of the finest cities of Brazil," said their uncle. "Ten years ago it was not a large place but now it has three hundred thousand people, many beautiful buildings, electric lights and trolley cars. It has also some very good schools and colleges, and students come here from all parts of the country. Perhaps Affonzo will go to college here some day."

"It seems a good ways from home," said the boy. "But uncle," he added, as they passed a crowd of queer looking people in the station, "what a lot of foreigners there are here!"

"Yes, more than in any other Brazilian city. A number of Italians work in the mills and on the farms, and the Germans are on the coffee plantations.

"To-night we will rest, and to-morrow morning we will see Sao Paulo, and in the afternoon go to the fazenda," said the Senhor, as they reached the hotel.

The next day they had a pleasant drive through the city and saw many interesting things.

"Mackenzie College is one of the best seats of learning in Brazil," said the uncle. "It is on the plan of the North American colleges, with kindergarten, primary grades and grammar school. There is also a normal school and a manual training shop."

"You see, you have to copy us," said Maria with a laugh. "All the schools in the States are good. You ought to live there."

Martim made a wry face.

"Maybe they are," he said, "but I don't believe I'd care to live in the States just on account of the schools when I can live here, and have a school just as good."

"Children!" said Martim's mother, but his father hastily interposed,

"Mackenzie College is named for Mr. John G. Mackenzie, of New York City, who gave a large sum of money to build it. But here we are at the Garden of Light. Now you may get out of the carriage and rest yourselves by running about these magnificent alleys of trees, seeing the lakes and fountains."

"Maria and Martim do not get along as well as the little girl and Affonzo," he said to his wife, as soon as the children were out of sight.

"It doesn't matter," she said serenely. "It does not hurt either of them to argue if it doesn't go too far. Children are far better for not being noticed. Affonzo gets along better with his cousin because he has Lola to quarrel with; Martim grows selfish from being too much alone." She sighed and her husband's face clouded as he thought of the children they had lost.

"We will keep Maria with us if the father is willing, as long as she is in Brazil."

"Better still, let both Maria and Martim return home with us," said the Senhora Dias. "Then all four young folk will learn to accommodate themselves to each other."

"That is an excellent plan, and it is kind in you to suggest it," said the Senhora Lopez, and her husband added,

"We shall try to arrange it that way."

"Come, children," he called a few minutes later. "We must return for lunch now as we drive to the fazenda afterwards. Do you know what we old folk have been planning?"

"No, papa, what is it?" asked Martim.

"Something pleasant, I am sure," said Lola. "For you are the dearest uncle in the world."

"Thank you, little flatterer," he pinched her cheek playfully. "It is that you four cousins are all to return to Para for the winter."

"Oh, delightful," cried Lola.

"How nice!" Maria said, and the boys seemed equally pleased.

The afternoon air was clear and bracing, and the children were in high spirits as the party drove to the fazenda.

The road wound through a beautiful country, past vineyards, and tea and coffee plantations, for Sao Paulo is one of the most productive provinces of Brazil. As they passed row after row of small trees Lola said,

"What pretty, glossy leaves those trees have!"

"Those are coffee trees," said Martim. "They grow about twelve feet tall."

"But where are the brown berries," asked Maria. "Are they all picked?"

Martim laughed.

"It's easy to see that you've never seen coffee growing," he said. "Did you think you could go and pick the browned berries and stew a pot of coffee?"

"No," said Maria demurely, "because we don't 'stew' coffee where I live."

Everybody laughed at this passage-at-arms between the two children, and Senhor Lopez said,

"We are beginning to see trees belonging to our plantation now. It is three miles square and we have just reached the edge of the land. The house is still three miles away."

"How does the coffee grow, Uncle Hilario?" asked Maria.

"Do you see the cluster of green pods on the trees, my dear? Well, seeds are within the pods, and when they are ripened must be dried, roasted and ground before they are ready for your coffee-pot. Later in the season the fruit turns bright red in colour, and makes a vivid contrast to the foliage of the trees, which is green the year around."

"Are the trees planted, or do they grow wild like our rubber trees?" asked Affonzo.

"They are planted in rows and sometimes grow as high as twenty-five feet. Usually they are between ten and fifteen feet high when they first bear fruit," said the Senhor. "It takes from three to five years for them to bear."

"When is the harvest time?" asked Maria.

"We have two crops so there are two harvests, one in February and one in August. Sometimes you see fruit and flowers on the same tree at the same time. The blossoms grow in little white bunches and are very fragrant."

"I should think it would take a lot of people to pick all this coffee," said Affonzo.

"It does. If you were to be here next February you would see hundreds of negroes and Italians, men, women, and children, busy up and down these long rows. Many of them live in those little houses," he said, pointing to a street lined with small wooden huts crowded close together. About the houses were scores of small, dark-skinned children at play.

"At the present time," said the Senhor, "the men and women are at work in the sheds and ware-houses making the coffee ready for market. We shall ship thousands of pounds next month. To-morrow I will take you about and show you what we have to do. I wish you might have been here during the harvest season. It is very interesting to watch the pickers with the huge baskets strapped to their shoulders. There is great rivalry among them to see who can be the fastest picker on the place."

Before they reached the fazenda their carriage passed through two gates which closed after them with a spring, and the Senhor said,

"The fazenda factory is always enclosed by one and sometimes two fences, for the cattle graze loose with only a pickaninny or the madrinla13 to watch them."

"It looks like a fortress," said Maria.

"Yes, and some fazendas are called 'fortaleza' for that very reason," said her uncle.

"It is really very much like the old fortresses of feudal times, within the walls of which went on all manner of things. Inside the fazenda palisades there are the houses of the labourers, apothecary's shop, hospital, ware-houses, and terrerios,14 besides the house of the owner."

"Why are there so few trees?" asked Lola.

"Nearly all the trees are cut down to make pasture lands and only a few shade trees are left, such as those fine palms. Here we are at the house. When you are rested I will take you about and show you how the coffee is made ready for market."

CHAPTER X

A TREAT IN PROSPECT

The week at the fazenda was a time of pleasant rest to the elders and full of delight to the children. They rode the horses and saw the cows milked and fed the pigs. These last were always taken very good care of by the fazendeiro,15 for they afford the principal food for all on the plantation.

There was very little in regard to coffee-raising that the children did not learn, for their inquisitive little noses were poked into every shed and room to see what was going on. Their Uncle Hilario went with them one day and explained it all fully while they listened eagerly.

"First the coffee goes to this large shed and is dumped into the great vat," he said. "The iron thing in the centre of the vat is the pulping machine. You see it is round like a cylinder and covered with teeth, and there are holes in the bottom. The teeth are covered on one side with a curved sheet of metal. When the cylinder revolves, water is turned into the vat, and as it flows through, the seeds are carried through the holes in the cylinder into tanks where the remaining matter is washed away.

"Then they go to the drying terrace," he said as they left the building and went toward a large piece of ground exposed to the blazing sun and covered with cement. "Here it is. After the pulp has been removed from the seeds there is left a thin skin. The seeds are spread in thin layers upon the ground and left to dry thoroughly in the sun, while workmen constantly turn them over and over with rakes to hasten the drying."

"How long does it take to dry them?" asked Martim.

"Several weeks," said his father. "On some fazendas they use steam heat, but we like the sun-dried coffee much the best. After the seeds are thoroughly dried they are taken to another building and passed through heavy rollers and the chaff separated and blown away.

"Now we will go to the sorting room," and they entered a long, low building where a number of women and girls were working at long tables piled with heaps of coffee berries. Men were constantly bringing in baskets full of the berries, which the women and girls sorted into different grades according to their quality.

"How fast their fingers fly," said Maria. "I don't see how they do it."

"They have done it so often and practice makes perfect," said her uncle. "As they sort the seeds they put them in sacks and the men carry them to another ware-house, where they are packed in sacks and weighed ready to be shipped."

"Uncle, what are those girls doing who are flying about everywhere with sieves in their hands?" asked Lola.

"They gather up all the berries which the men scatter as they carry the coffee about," he answered. "You see we do not want to waste anything.

"Do you see those wagons being loaded? The coffee in those sacks is ready to go to Sao Paulo, and thence to Santos to be shipped to North America. Our coffee goes to every part of the world, for the coffee of the Fazenda Esperança is considered especially good.

"Now you have followed the coffee berry from the tree to the market and I hope you will try to remember all about it, for the coffee industry is one of the greatest in the country."

"It's ever so interesting, uncle," said Maria. "And thank you for telling us about it."

"I have enjoyed it more than you have," he answered. "It is a pleasure to talk to such eager little listeners.

"Rest yourselves now, for you must be tired with all this tramping. I am going to the house to see your mother about some plans for to-morrow."

"Do tell us, uncle," they all cried, but he only shook his head and laughed as he went away.

"I shall simply die of curiosity if I do not find out what uncle is planning," said Maria.

"I don't see what good that would do," said Martim, "for you wouldn't be likely to either know about it or to do it if you were dead."

Maria made a naughty little face at him, and a quarrel seemed imminent when Lola, who had gone to the house when her uncle did, came running toward them waving her hand wildly.

"Oh! What do you think!" she cried as she ran up to them. "The loveliest thing has happened."

"What?" cried all the children at once, but Lola was too out of breath to answer.

"Uncle Hilario is certainly a darling!" she said at last. "He has prepared the loveliest treat for us! He says that to-morrow we all start for the Falls of Iguazu, and Maria, your father has come and – " but she had no chance to finish her sentence, for Martim shouted, "The Falls of Iguazu! Hurrah!" and ran off to the house, while Maria with a squeal of "Daddy!" pelted after him as fast as she could go. Lola and Affonzo looked at each other and laughed.

"What's it all about, Lolita?" he asked and she answered,

"Uncle Hilario told me that they had only been awaiting Uncle Juan's arrival to make the excursion to these wonderful falls and that we start to-morrow."

"Where are the falls?" asked Affonzo.

"Indeed, I don't know, but it is several days' journey and we can go only part of the way by train. We must take a boat and perhaps ride upon burros. It is far in the woods, and very few people go there."

"Let us go and find out all about it," said Affonzo, and the two children hurried to the house as the rest of the party had done.

There they found considerable excitement, every one asking a thousand questions which were not answered until the mothers placed their fingers in their ears and demanded silence. Maria was seated upon her father's knees, her usually sober little face bright with happiness, as she whispered to Lola, "He is going to Para with us, to stay all winter, so I can be with him and have you too!" Lola gave her hand a loving squeeze, but said nothing, for Uncle Hilario began to speak.

"The Falls of Iguazu, children, are one of the most beautiful places in all Brazil. They lie at the joining of the Parana and Iguazu rivers, at the point where the frontiers of Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina meet. We will go by rail to Curitaba but part of the way lies through the mountains and will be hard to travel. The sail down the river will be delightful. Your mother, Martim, will stay here on the plantation, and any one who wishes may stay with her. Uncle Juan, Martim and I, your father and mother, Lola, are going. Who else wants to be in the party?"

"I!" cried all three children at once, and Lola added,

"We'll be so good, uncle, if we can only go!"

"Well, you may all go, then," said the Senhor Lopez, "and I think it will be a delightful trip. No – " as they all started to ask questions – "don't ask me a thing to-day. There will be plenty of time to talk about it on our journey, and I have not a moment to spare, for it takes a great deal of planning to get such a party off."

"Yes, and I have all I can possibly attend to," said Lola's mother. "So you little folk must amuse yourselves."

"I am the only one who has nothing to do," said Uncle Juan. "Suppose you all come out under the palms with me, and I will try to tell you something of the country we are going to see." So joyfully they trooped after him and listened spellbound to his words.

"The country where we are going," he said, "is called the 'Land of the Missiones' because it is here that the early missions were founded by the Jesuits. These devoted men went all over that part of Brazil trying to convert the Indians and making settlements, some of which are still standing after two hundred years. San Ignacio, though deserted by the Indians, is still in existence near Iguazu and there was once there a prosperous Indian settlement built around a plaza, with a school, dwelling houses and a church.

"The falls are magnificent, but you will have to wait and see them before you can understand how really beautiful they are."

"Not so beautiful as Niagara, father, of course!" said Maria, and her father said, "Some people think they are quite as fine, daughter; but have you a chip on your shoulder now about the States? Maria would never admit to any North American that anything in the States could be finer than it was down here," he added to the boys.

Martim exclaimed, "Well, she's a queer sort of a girl! She never would let us praise anything here, because she'd always say the States were finer."

"The States were mamma's," she murmured, and her father held her close and kissed her as he whispered, "Little Loyalty!"

CHAPTER XI

THE FALLS OF IGUAZU

The morning dawned cool and pleasant. All were ready for an early start and there followed a week of delight for the children. The railway journey over, they took their way through the forests, over plains and across rivers. In some the hoofs of the horses or of the sure-footed little burros the children rode sank in the sand which covered the land as at one time the sea had covered it. Again, trees appeared, and at last they reached the virgin forest where monkeys scampered among the trees and the cries of parrots were heard in the air, as their brilliant plumage flashed in the sunlight.

At times the bridle path was so narrow that no two horses could have passed each other had they met.

Convolvulus and creeping plants encircled the huge trees, and, swaying in the breeze, long vines swung gracefully down, often forming natural swings in which the children delighted. At night the party camped in tents, the negro servants cooking wonderful meals from the game shot during the day.

The days were not too hot and at night a fire was often necessary, for when the terral16 did not blow from the land the veracao17 wafted zephyrs from the ocean. The air was laden with the subtle perfume of the magnolia and orange blossom, and life seemed an existence of pleasure and joy.

The Senhor's trip had not been all for pleasure. It was his intention to increase his export trade in native woods, and he had made the journey through the forest to see whether it would be possible to get wood to the sea, were he to buy a tract of land in this region. The children, however, knew nothing about this. They were occupied with having a good time, and they were having it.

Martim and Affonzo hunted and fished, while the girls vied with each other in weaving rush baskets and in making flower-chains of the wonderful flowers which grew everywhere along the road, in gorgeous beauty.

As they neared Iguazu, the roar of the cataract could be heard for miles, and when they finally saw the falls, beyond the first surprised "Oh!" which broke from all, there was nothing said.

The river Iguazu makes a sharp bend above the falls and a portion of it rushes around the inner bank and falls into a gorge two hundred and ten feet deep; the remainder of the current, however, sweeps over the edge of a cliff and making two great leaps of a hundred feet falls in a huge half moon three thousand feet wide. All about was the most charming Brazilian scenery, with trees over one hundred feet high overgrown with tropical vines, and above all shone the deep blue of the tropical sky.

"Well, little Yankee, how about Niagara now?" asked Martim teasingly.

"There's only one Niagara," said Maria sturdily, and her father added,

"Niagara and Iguazu cannot be compared. The one is surrounded by cultivated parks and thriving modern cities, the other with the abandon of nature. Niagara makes a single leap over a precipice one hundred and eighty feet high, while Iguazu is broken in fall but far wider. Either one is a possession for any country to be proud of and neither one is worth a single quarrel.

"We are to camp here for some days. I hope you little folk will have a nice time and I am not going to issue a lot of commands to spoil your pleasure. Only one thing is forbidden; you must never go away from camp without one of the servants unless you are with one of us grown people. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," they all said, and he added,

"I am sure I can trust you. The forest is full of all manner of animals and creeping things, and it would be very easy to lose your way, so that we could never find you again. Now, have all the fun you can for our week here will soon be over."

What orgies of delight followed! The girls bathed in the stream and ran wild in the sunshine, happy and tanned, going into the forest with the boys, except when they were going hunting.

Several days before their return home, the whole party went up to San Ignacio to see the ruins of the old mission in the heart of the woods. Huge trees mark the site of the flourishing town, where once were cheerful homes which only eighty years ago were burned. So well were these dwellings built that the ruins are in excellent preservation, and the children played hide-and-seek in and out of the deserted walls, their merry laughter waking the echoes of the past. Maria had taught them the game she called 'High Spy,' and they enjoyed it greatly, she most of all.

"Now then, Martim, it's your turn to be it," she said. "And you can't find me!" as she sped away to hide in some new and strange place. Before she knew it she had gone farther into the forest than she meant, and she did not know how to return. She turned this way and that, but there seemed no path. All about her the woods hemmed her in everywhere like a great green curtain. Then catching her foot in a swinging vine she fell and hurt her ankle. Frightened, she stood under a great magnolia to think.

"I must not be silly and cry," she said to herself. "I can't have gone very far, and if I sit still they'll be sure to come and find me. If I go on I may just get farther and farther away. I am going to stay right here anyway, until my ankle is better," as she seated herself quietly.

Maria was a brave child and old for her age, and she sat quite still, though the tears came into her eyes.

Soon she grew very drowsy and could hardly keep awake, for the woods were full of soft, cooing sounds and at last she dropped asleep.

It was almost twilight when she awoke, and the rays of the setting sun gleamed between the leaves. Drowsily stirring, she heard the sound of voices, and sitting up suddenly she saw a little Indian girl talking to a splendid cockatoo which perched upon her hand. The parrot was chattering in Portuguese, and his little mistress was talking to him lovingly, but she sprang away in fright as Maria got up from the ground.