We left Duro on the thirteenth of October, and slept at the house of one of the Indians, about two leagues distant from the Aldea: the owner of it, hearing on what day I was to leave, arrived the night before, and begged of me to call at his house, which was but a little way off the road, to see his wife who had been blind for some years, and was then suffering from ophthalmia. I, of course, could not refuse his request, and the poor fellow tried to make us as comfortable as his miserable residence would allow. This place was called Cachoeira, from a small waterfall near it; the high undulating hills which surrounded the valley in which the house stood, gave it a very picturesque appearance. There were two other houses at a short distance from that in which we slept, and although they are surrounded by the finest possible grounds for plantations, the three families have but one small spot planted with mandiocca, which seemed to be the only article they cultivate. Although there were abundant pastures in the neighbourhood, not one of them possessed a single cow, and their excuse for not having one, was the trouble it would give them to make a fence round their plantation; rather than do any manual labour of that kind, they prefer lounging about the house in a state of idleness, or going out in the woods with their gun and axe, in search of game and wild honey. Our farinha being nearly exhausted, I enquired whether any was to be had at this place, but they had none, nor would they have a supply for a month to come, as the mandiocca was not yet ripe; fortunately a young man passed in the evening with a very small quantity which he at first refused to sell, as he was taking it to a neighbour in return for some he had borrowed; he consented, however, to let me have half of it, on condition of receiving dried beef in exchange, which, as we had then plenty, I agreed to. On the journey from Duro to this place, we traversed a beautiful country of hill and dale, much of it being thinly wooded; some of the more open upland fields, owing to the recent rains, were covered with new grass about a foot high, on which no animals fed, excepting a few wild deer. It is a general custom among the cattle farmers, to burn the pastures at the end of the dry season, in order that the new grass may spring up rapidly on the setting in of the rains; this is also done by the inhabitants of the mission, but with the view to keep their hunting grounds more open, and encourage the visits of deer. It seems probable, that at no very distant period the whole of this district, and much of the country that lies to the east and north-west, will be converted into large cattle farms, as it is well calculated for the rearing of cattle, owing to the mildness of the climate, and the abundance of grass and water which exists here all the year round.