_December 12th._—We left Manaos, according to our intention, on Sunday evening (the 10th), raising the anchor with military exactness at five o’clock, the very moment appointed, somewhat to the disappointment of a boatful of officials from the National Guard, who were just on their way to pay their parting compliments to the President, at the hour fixed for his departure. In Brazil it may safely be assumed that things will always be a little behind time; on this occasion, however, our punctuality was absolute, and the officers were forced to wave their adieux as we proceeded on our way, leaving their canoe behind. The hour was of good omen,—a cool breeze, the one blessing for which the traveller sighs in these latitudes, blowing up the Amazons; and as we left the Rio Negro, it lay behind us, a golden pathway to the setting sun, which was going down in a blaze of glory. We were received on board with all possible hospitality by the commander, Captain Faria. He has made every arrangement for our comfort which a vessel of war, not intended for passengers, can afford, giving up his own quarters for my accommodation. On deck he has arranged a little recess, sheltered by a tarpaulin from the sun and rain, to serve as a dining-room, that we may take our meals in the fresh air instead of dining in the close cabin below decks intended for this purpose. The morning following our departure was an interesting one, because we found ourselves at the mouth of the Ramos, unknown to steam navigation, and about which the Captain had some apprehensions, as he was by no means sure that he should find water enough for his vessel. It was, therefore, necessary to proceed with great caution, sounding at every step and sending out boats in advance, to ascertain the direction of the channel. Once within the river, we had depth of water enough to float much larger vessels. The banks of this stream are beautiful. The forest was gay with color, and the air laden with the rich perfume of flowers, which, when we came up the Amazons six months ago, were not yet in bloom. We were struck also with the great abundance and variety of the palms, so much more numerous on the lower course of the Amazons than on the Solimoens. The shores were dotted with thrifty-looking plantations, laid out with a neatness and care which bespeak greater attention to agriculture than we have seen elsewhere. Healthy-looking cattle were grazing about many of the sitios. As the puff of our steam was heard, the inhabitants ran out to gaze in amazement at the unwonted visitant, standing in groups on the shores, almost too much lost in wonder to return our greetings. The advent of a steamer in their waters should be to them a welcome harbinger of the time, perhaps not far distant, when, instead of their present tedious and uncertain canoe journeys to Serpa or Villa Bella, they will be able to transport their produce to either of these points in a few hours, in small steamboats, connecting all