We remained at this place during one entire day, and the next morning set off, intending to sleep at a hamlet, called Pai Paulo. We rested at mid-day near to a well, and in the afternoon proceeded. Wells are generally formed in these parts by digging a hole in the ground, to the depth of two or three feet, until the water appears; if a person in the neighbourhood of one of them, who takes water from it, should be nice about these matters, a fence is made round it, but if not, as is oftener the case, the well remains open, and the cattle come down to drink at it. These pits or wells are called _caçimbas_. The grass was much burnt up, but still there was plenty of it. In the afternoon we passed over some stony ground,—it was the first I had met with, and it was very painful to the horses which had come from the sandy soil of Pernambuco; but we soon entered upon a long though narrow plain, bounded by brushwood, over which the road was clear, and the grass burnt up entirely on each side. We overtook a white man on foot, with twelve loaded horses, and a very small poney which carried a saddle; the loads were all alike, each horse carrying two skins or bags of some kind of provisions. I was much surprised at the circumstance of this man having the management of so many horses, because generally, the number of men is nearly equal to that of the beasts. I observed that his horses began to spread upon the plain, and seemed inclined to take to the brushwood; I called to my guide to ride to the right, whilst I did the same to the left, and go in quickly between them and the wood, to prevent the animals from separating. The man thanked me, which brought on further conversation; he asked the guide where we intended to sleep, and was answered, “at Pai Paulo.” The wells at Pai Paulo, he told us, were all dried up, and the inhabitants had deserted their houses. What was to be done: he said, that he intended to remain upon a plain two leagues distant from where we then were, that no water was to be had there, but that for our party and himself, his slave would bring a sufficient quantity, who had remained behind to fill a skin at a well which we had passed. There was no alternative; to remain here was impossible, for there was no grass. Therefore I ordered Julio and his companion to let our horses and those of our new friend remain together, and to look to them equally. The slave soon joined us with the water, gave the skin to my guide, and went on to assist Julio, whilst I advanced very slowly, that I might have some more conversation with the owner of the _comboio_, or convoy, which we had thus joined. He was the son of a man of property, who resided upon the banks of the Açu, and possessed several cattle estates in those parts; the old man was a colonel of militia, and he with whom I conversed, was the major of the same regiment. The drought had been so severe with them, that they feared a famine, and he had been sent down to the coast to