On the third of March we made preparations for leaving the residence of the good old Padre. During our stay we fared most sumptuously, as every day in the year a fat ox is killed for his use and that of his establishment; a day or two before our departure one was killed, and the flesh dried for our use on the journey, so that with other presents I received from him, our provision boxes were so well filled that we required little in addition till we reached the city of Oeiras. After an early breakfast I parted with my kind host, who on account of his other visitors did not accompany me far, but Dr. Marcos rode with me for upwards of a league and a half, when we parted with mutual regret, it being so seldom that one who has a taste for the study of nature, meets with a kindred spirit in those distant regions; since my return to England we have kept up a correspondence, and he has sent me specimens of objects in natural history, many of which are different from those which my limited stay enabled me to obtain. At the very outset of our journey, we met with an accident that did not give us a very favourable idea of the state of the road. At about two leagues from Boa Esperança, three of the cargo horses plunged up to the middle in a swamp; the surface was covered with grass, and appeared perfectly solid, but the soil beneath had become so saturated with water, that it was quite a mass of tenacious mud. It was with no small difficulty that the animals were extricated; in leading them across they often sank again; all the loads had to be carried over, and as we had to lend a hand at this work, we shared the same fate as the horses, being frequently up to the middle in the mud. These spots are called Atoleiras by the Brazilians, and are very much dreaded, as horses are occasionally lost in them; during the day we had to pass three more quagmires, but none so bad as the first.