42.  Christmas Dinner at Mr. Millers.

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Dec. 26th.

The picnic was given up and yesterday we dined at Mr. Miller’s. The Americans looked very happy, seated around the well-filled tables with just such a dinner as one would have in the States. A large roast turkey, the first we have eaten since we came here was realized by the guests. Then we had a nice dessert and cakes and doces from the fruits of the country, pineapples, bananas, etc.

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They are very comfortable in their new house, so cool and pleasant. They look settled now. The prospect is grand and beautiful from the hill and the lake seemed larger, as we can see further up than on our side. A rain came just as we thought of returning. It continued till so the ladies stayed all night. There were not so many at the dining as we expected as some could not go and several gentlemen went down to Linhares to the festivities. Dr. Dunn took dinner with Mama.

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A very polite invitation, written by the Frenchman, Monsieur Prelontt, was sent to our family. The compliments of all the villagers were given, through him, and they brought a large canoe, all the way from the village to take us down. We felt very badly about refusing when they had taken so much trouble but we preferred dining with our American friends. Our Mother wrote a note expressing our thanks and regrets.

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Some of these canoes are an immense size. We have seen one, belonging to Senor Rafael, wide enough for a man to lie in it crosswise and long in proportion. These canoes are all made of trees which are cut out and made hollow - called dugouts. They use no other boats.

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This is my 15th birthday, but the first time it has come in midsummer.

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Our house progresses slowly. A clean new palmetto roof is on and two rooms are now ready for daubing.

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June 16th.

A good many gentlemen have gone to Rio de Janeiro. Father has at last gone. He went with Dr. Dunn. Some of our friends have just returned. Dr. Farley thinks he will soon have his mill in operation and we can have plank floors. And we will feel as if we were living. When our cook comes we expect to study and read more, but even with our other duties, we now have time to teach the children and they are improving.

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Everything seems changed and sad since our Father is gone and the spirits of our Mother need cheering. She is suffering with inflammation of the eyes and has to wear a green shade over them to protect them from the glare of the white sand and the water. She thinks they are much better since they were cauterized but believe she would be cheerful if she could sew or read.

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We feel this separation from Father more because we are in such an unsettled state and we cannot hear from him as we wish. The mails are so slow or rather so far apart. We are not yet in our new house but two rooms are nearly ready for us and we all agreed that we could stay within the little hut a few weeks longer.

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Everything is changed. There is a strange dullness and stillness about everything, for we miss our dear Father’s voice and are constantly looking towards the new house, as though we could see him.

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We are all listless. The hot, dry weather has come - the sun is scorching. The ground burns our feet through our shoes and the children cannot run on the sand for it blisters their feet. The vines and bushes are turning yellow. The sea breeze which rises after nine, saves us from baking. Our vegetables (the few that have come up), are killed with the heat. Corn crops have failed, and today an egg was found cooked by the sun.  Antone’s prediction may yet be true that our roof will blaze. The natives say there had never been a season like this before. But we are several hundred miles nearer the equator than in Rio de Janeiro, and we would expect some difference. There the climate scarcely changes through the year so we have been told.

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Poor old Mr. Fahay is lying sick in the pretty little house which was intended for our kitchen and dining room. If it were not so far from our present home, we would have been using it. Mr. Spencer is having chills.

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June 19th.

I am seated in front of the hut. The children have brought up their pitchers of water - a pleasant breeze is blowing and the sun is down. Have taken my journal to write a description of the Tournament we had in Linhares, in which Americans and Brazilians united. There is a heavy feeling in my head and I have no powers of description, so I must postpone until another time, an account of our pleasures.

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43.  The Tournament.

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Jan. 20th.

We went down to the village and were treated with great hospitality by Mr. Gunter's family where we stayed most of the time. Our American friends in the village were still all attentive. There were quite a number of visitors. The tournament came off at the appointed time. The riders looked splendidly. The victorious Knight was a Brazilian. He had the best horse and the best lance. We all knew the Americans rode just as well.

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We were pleased to tell our mother on our return that one of her daughters had been crowned Queen. We enjoyed very much a walk to Lake Deavis, which is as peaceful as ever, with its humble homes around its borders. We had two dances, which all seemed to enjoy. The first at Senhor Calmou’s in his very pretty new house, just built and finished, in an ornamental style, painted white with a tiled roof. The second at Senhor Raphael's. Could think of many things to relate that were pleasant, but am to dull and stupid.

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Old Mr. Fahay gets no better. We gave him all the eggs as he likes nothing but buttercakes, eggs and tea.

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Feb. 9th.

Yesterday, Mr. Farley died. His body was taken down to Linhares last night. His death has cast a gloom over us. I feel so tired I cannot write more this evening.

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Feb. 11th.

We walked over to the new home this afternoon. Could not bear to go by the new kitchen. The awe of death was over it.

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2th.

Another scorching day is drawing to a close. The strong sea breeze is fanning the hot earth, cooling it and making waves on the water. The lake is ruffled from shore to shore and a boat I see near the opposite bank, is riding the breakers beautifully But, although the scene is all very lovely, nothing seems as bright these days, since the weather wilts and tires us so. Our energy is gone.

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Our father had sent for a guitar for a musical sister, which arrived, with shoes and other useful articles, but the instrument is not a good one and we are disappointed. But the shoes are excellent.

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Feb. 14th.

Saint Valentine's Day. Also, one of the family birthdays says Special. No special way to commemorate it as we are gloomy; for we are yet in the miserable hut and have not yet the hope of having more than two rooms of the new house. These workers are the slowest and laziest on the lake, I know, and are always making promises.

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Mr. Miller’s builders went right ahead with their work and did not stop until they had finished his house. We are sick with impatience - tired in body and spirit. Will copy in my journal a few words I wrote on my return from Linhares, feeling real pleasure as we entered the lake and turned homeward.

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Oh! Lake Juparanah -  once more 

Thy blue waves dance into the light,

Again upon the sanded shore 

Thy waters dash, with gentle night.

The evening breezes fan my cheek. 

They kiss my brow o’er and o’er.

I feel if I heard them speak.

That I am welcomed back once more

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How different are my thoughts now, from then, when my heart was full of thankful, joyful feelings and I really loved this beautiful sheet of water. Now, much of the charm has gone. The languor we feel has taken away my enthusiasm. We so much need a few heavy rains.

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We still have our sea breezes and cool nights and for this God be praised. We cannot be well or we cannot be too weak to take pleasure in anything.

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We must here add a word to this page of the diary - about the peculiarity of the climate. Even then, when the sun's rays and long drought had parched the earth, withered the vines and even cooked an egg upon the ground, we were quite comfortable inside of a hut or beneath the shade of a tree. It was always delightful under the Palmetto roof of the new house. As soon as the sun went down, we were sufficiently cool, always drawing a sheet and spread, sometimes a quilt over us at night.

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A cottage built after the American or English style with verandas, would be, on the banks of Lake Juparana, a home of great comfort for even in the huts with no shade around them we never suffered from the heat; such is the influence of the wondrous breeze. The Brazilians always cut down the forest trees, leaving the ground perfectly clear of every shrub, for at least twenty yards in front and behind. They are afraid the trees might fall on their houses and yet we found that wind storms were a very rare occurrence.

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If the Americans had remained in the area there would have been homes of great beauty around that lovely sheet of water and they will have had landscaped properties with fruit and forest trees. Arbors enwrapped with fragrant vines and flowers of native growth would have been their evening retreat and our settlement would have been a little Paradise. But “Man proposes and God disposes.”

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The Rio Doce Colony was located nearly the four degrees north of Rio de Janeiro, being that much nearer the equator, the heat is more sensibly felt. Yet, we had reason to believe, from various statements of the natives that this was a remarkable season and we say now (after a return to this country) that no climate can compare with that of Brazil for uniformity and pleasantness throughout the year.

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44.  Dark Days – The Fever.

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Now, comes on a lapse in the family journals. The Book of Records in which these pages were copied was laid on the shelf the evening these last notes were written, and the hands that were placed there on the following day were burning with fever. That dear head was throbbing with pain, which had felt dullness and stupor, by degrees coming on. There was something in her eyes which told us she would be very sick and our fears were not groundless. The anguish of “The Mother's” heart, while watching by that bed none could know - the anxiety - the dreadful fear of calamities ahead - The darkest suspense came on like a sweeping storm, that had been preceded by stifling, sultry hours. The weary days, just passed, of stillness and grief were ominous of what was to come.

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All had now left her Home - Home - could we call it by such an endearing name, when our shelter was a hovel? Yes! It was all the home we had in that great body of land - it was ours - loving ones were clustered together, with a great joy, in common, of being near each other and one great sorrow, that the dearest and strongest was away.

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For five days and nights the poor sufferer passed through different phases of delirium without sleep. Our physician kept her head cool by pouring water upon it and constantly fanning the wet towels. We were far out of the way of such a luxury as ice and he did not permit the thing to cease. With Dr. Johnson's skill and constant care and Miss Anna Miller’s kind assistance in nursing, the crisis passed and our joy was great beyond utterance to know she was at last better.

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After the state of convalescence came on, we could recall many things which were amusing – but at the time painful. One afternoon, while we were sitting by our daughter's cot, which was placed directly in front of the door, she explained “Oh! There is a ginger cake”. We were not surprised, living as plainly as we did, that her fancy should have brought before her, even a ginger cake, without the appetite to eat it. “It is a ginger cake” she exclaimed.

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On our telling her she was mistaken, she answered, positively – “But, I am not. It is a ginger cake!” and she pointed to a square piece of board which covered the earthen water cooler. We held it before her – then made her touch it - but she could not be convinced. In the sudden changes of delirium, her mind had cleared of this idea and this delusion was forgotten.

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At times, she would imagine she heard dear Father speaking. Once she explained. “I know it is his voice. why didn't he come in?” When we told her she was mistaken, that he was not here, she answered, “Mama, I know his voice too well”. “Did your Mother ever deceive you?“  I asked “Did I ever deceive you?“ She replied with great emphasis. “Ah!” Those were dark days, but we can look back upon them now, without sorrow - even when we think of this pitiable condition in which we were placed, with entire absence of comfort for the sick.

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In order to keep the mosquitoes out and still admit the breezes, we tucked the breadth of mosquitoe bar all around the door sills, leaving the door open day and night. We came in and went out through the only window, which was opposite and so small, It was troublesome to get through. The children were put to bed in as quiet a manner as possible and if little George cried after going to sleep, as he sometimes did, from mosquitoe bites, his sisters took him up immediately, carried him to the beach, sitting in the starlight until he was asleep again. Thus, passed that wearing and anxious week. Miss Anna remained a constant and devoted nurse.

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One afternoon some of us went down towards the beach with some clothes to wash. The Seraphim family were sick and weak and we could not hire them to do anything and had no other resort than to make an effort, ourselves.

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When we reached the deepest sand, I sank down to my knees. The attempt to walk through its depths made me feel a sudden inability to move further on. And, in my weakness the fountain of dried-up tears gushed forth. The arms of a sympathizing child were thrown around my neck, who shared “the mother's” grief and would have spared her all care. But, this was a mutual sorrow. The fear of losing, by death, one so very dear to us, to be buried in a land almost of barbarism, came terribly to our minds. Twas well, the spirit for a while, gave way. We needed this outburst from the aching heart.

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We took up the clothes and began to pour water upon them, when a canoe darted around the point. In a few moments, Capt. Johnson alighted. “A friend in need”. He came; to tell us he would send us a servant to cook and wash for us, as his negroes had arrived from Rio. The woman was capable of doing any kind of work. This was welcome news and we thanked him most sincerely. We were in a fit mood for the deepest gratitude.

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After that, we had meals cooked and clothes washed by an able negress. We were greatly relieved, as everyone became a daily worker and more energized.

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The death of Mr. Fahy, which had been mentioned in the journals, shocked us very much, although we learned from our physician he could not recover but he did not think he would die so soon. The poor old man had received an injury on his leg from a shell during the war and was nearly cured when he went to Brazil but had for the past few months, suffered from renewed inflammation. This was the real cause of his illness. Inactivity and indifference to the greatest rules of health had at last caused the fever and then death.

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Mr. Spencer was very feeble, taking quinine to break chills at the time; but, he said he would go immediately after assistance from our neighbors, if someone could watch the body. Perhaps we all turned pale at this point, if not, we felt so, but “The Mother” should not go alone and any one of the number would have accompanied her. One only was sufficient.

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The memory of the picture we made in misery as we eat in gloom, under the shelter of the new house, (one half open at the sides, like a large piazza), We had taken for a bench, one of the large sills near the center. About ten or fifteen feet from the corner of the building was our beautiful kitchen, (which we had hoped to be using before this) was now the abode of death.

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45.  The Watch.

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Its dread, grim presence was there and we would not enter. There was something too awful in the thought. We remained seated - listening and watching that nothing should come and harm the dead. The lonely hills, inhabited by wild animals, which rose on the slopes on each side, were very near. Beasts of prey might become conscious of what was below and seek to enter the house. We thought of all this and remained there - looking toward the door and waiting for the return of the canoes - the lake grew rough and the sun went down and still no one appeared - we could not account for this, as the distance around the point was so little. There was some detention, we were sure. We called to some of the children and when they came, we sent them to ask old Senorena or one of her daughters to stay with us. The scene was very solemn and we were growing lonely and filled with awe. After a while Josephine and her mother came. They looked in, upon the body, and then suggsted that we should make a blaze under the shelter to brighten the place. We agreed and they gathered together chips and sticks which were lying plentifully around and built a fire. Then came old Seraphim and he too walked into the room, speaking in jesting tones to the poor man, lying dead – “send for candles”, he said. It was not yet quite dark, but we sent for them and he lighted up the house. Cold chills ran over us, to hear him laughing and talking so carelessly at such a time. This was something novel and awful - watching the dead and in such company. We were such relieved, after a while, by the coming of two canoes.

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Dr. Johnson and Capt. Yancey came, bringing several negro men. The Lake was so rough, they came near to being swamped and had to go back till the breeze lessened and the water grew. When they came to our shelter, we returned to the hut and the gentleman then superintended the last attention to the poor old man. Everything was properly done and before the day his remains were on the way to the village where they were interred the following afternoon. A gloom was cast over us by this event which we could not throw off. We did not like to look towards our kitchen for, although without superstition, we too felt the awe of death was over it. We have sometimes thought that the mysterious dread of such events is increased by the solemnities of funeral rites and believed “The pomp of death   Is far more terrible than death itself.”

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 But here had died a poor sufferer without relatives, who did not wish to live. His life, from months of pain, had become a burden. His hearse with black and nodding plumes had come to bear his remains to the grave, no train of carriages followed behind with mourning friends. The only road upon which to travel was the water of the lake and river, the only vehicle to carry him away was a canoe and by the light of a cold oil-light he was placed in the rough hearse.

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Nursery fears of darkness, ghosts and goblins had never been childhood troubles, but there was something in the remembrance of that evening under that raw house shelter and the night that followed which made us shiver. So, it was not the “pomp of death” that brought these terrors, but rather the entire absence of ceremonies. We would do no better and yet felt that it resembled barbarism.

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It was with much difficulty that a coffin could be made as boards were scarce and the only method of making them was with a whip saw.

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In one week from this time came the sickness in our own family which had been already described, and the new grief and anxiety made us forget the scenes preceding. Every feeling was then immersed in one. But, God heeded our prayers and in the fullness of our joy we tried to praise Him. He had “heard us in the day of trouble”.

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One after another was stricken with fever but these cases were all less severe – still, in our watches, the great anxiety, the fear of coming trouble pressed heavily upon us. “The Father” was still away and the difficulties attending the bearing of mails seemed to have grown worse and we could not hear from each other. This anxiety made our other troubles greater. Provisions were growing scarce and our living was very hard. But the poor fare would not have troubled us as much had not the invalids needed suitable food, which was nowhere in reach. Wild animals were destroying our poultry at night, they entered a strongly made new dirt daubed house with good door. They found their way through the palmetto roof breaking the leaves and stems apart. Sometimes a mink would cut the throats of the ducks and chickens and then run off. We would then cook and eat them. About the time our poultry was most needed we had none and our friends tried to get young chickens for us. Capt. J. succeeded after going to every house on the Lake and, for good soup, the invalids were sometimes indebted to him. All the gentlemen were having chills and becoming discouraged.

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At last, we were told that two rooms of our house were ready.

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46.  Going Into the New House.

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The floors had not been finished as only one layer of beaten earth had been put down. But we concluded to move over. It was the second week in March. One of the twins was sick. Mr. Spenser carried her over in his arms and put her in the bed that had been prepared. Some of us remained forwarding and others went over to receive. Four comaradoes came to move the stove, which they expected to lift on poles. We told them the stove was not so very heavy and that such great strength was not necessary, and they could carry it in their hands, but they thought, being iron, it must require great exertion to move it. So, they put the poles under-neath, two men on each side, raised themselves from their knees and the stove flew up so high and it turned upside down and fell to the ground, breaking off two doors. It was thus seriously damaged by the stupid natives who could not understand that a hundred pounds of iron was not heavier than the same number of wood. But we did not have time to lament and we carried on with our moving and by night were in our new home – at last. We looked high up to our new, clean, palmetto roof with great thankfulness. The mosquitoes had ensconced themselves in the house and we were terribly bitten., so we did not rest in our new rooms but still were glad to be there. There were no windows or shutters and doors. We fastened heavy, rush mats, from the top of the frames, which we rolled up, halfway in the day and they looked very pretty and kept the house cool. We hung up and rearranged our bars the next day and we all slept better that night.

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One of the last terrors in the old hut was caused by the appearance of the tarantula, on the walls. This venomous spider was killed not far from the head of one of the beds. We saved it for exhibition and it was the veritable Tarantula. A few nights after, another was killed on the wall. We found spiders, already, in our new house – so, we knew we could not avoid having their visits, occasionally.

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Every day we became a little better settled without doing anything toward real improvement. We could make our sick more comfortable with airy bedrooms and plenty of space. We wondered every day how we could have existed for nearly six months in the horrible, little, smoke roofed hut. We rejoiced that we had the use of even a portion of the new house. The kitchen which we then used, was large enough for a dining room also, and we made a new table, by putting a nice top (made of boards nailed together with strips underneath) on two barrels. It was quite level, and with the cloth spread and the dishes on it, looked comfortable. The stove doors had to be kept shut with sticks, leaned against them while we were baking. There was no blacksmith near and we were much annoyed whenever we cooked a meal.

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47.  House Daubing and New Privations.

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Our kitchen is only a few yards from the house at a right angle and could be seen from the front yard. Mr. Spencer's room, which was exactly like it, was on the left at the same distance from our house. This also was seen from the beach and the three buildings symmetrically arranged with new palmetto roofs, made a pretty picture with so much green for a background. The daubing of Mr. Spencer's house was done soon after we went over, but he had been sleeping in it for some time before. The natives daubed it and they brought their wives with them and they brought their children. The women carried the mud on the hillside, about fifty yards, with an infant on one arm, and the other supporting a wooden bowl full of wet clay, which rested on the head, They, thus, assisted their husbands. Although these people were so slow about building, they were very energetic in the finishing process.

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Mr. Spencer has been growing daily more feeble. He was only able to walk about, a few days after our move, and fever had gained possession of his weary frame. He was no longer able, with his ever willing spirit, to go on errands for our comfort. He had been faithful and devoted to us and often had worked or rowed the canoe when not well enough. For this reason, the sickness came to be a very severe one. Quinine had been scarce when it was necessary and he should have been in bed many days before he was compelled to lie down. Our friends gave him all the assistance they could. During the last week our physician thought he would die and at that time there were several others sick in bed. God sustained “The Mother” at this dark period and she was enabled to nurse the others in the family without being stricken with fever. Day after day - night after night - she passed from one bed to the other and though her cheek grew paler. Her time had not yet come.

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Cheering letters had come from “The Father”, who had not heard of the sickness and trials of the dear ones at home. How dreadfully slow were the mail communications. His mind was full of his approaching return and the comfort he was going to add to the dear, delightful, “home on the Lake”. Already he had sent back on the schooner, on which he went, a large lot of provisions which he believed we were enjoying. The elegant new sailboat was also on its way, and he would bring with him the window sashes for our new house. Cast nets, traps for game and more new fruit trees and best of all, he had bought for us a cook. How filled with joyful hope was that letter, addressed to the dear family, then so very sick and troubled, But our hearts were made thankful that he was well and we believed he was preparing to return to us.

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The provisions mentioned in the letter were placed on the sand bar from Oliveira’s schooner, and there they remained as the natives were generally sick - Mr. Spencer nearly dead and very few Americans able to row even a small canoe, as nearly all were disabled with chills and fever. So our bags of rice and beans, barrels of sugar and flour stayed on the damp beach, daily moistened by the tide then heated by the sun. While we would have given piles of gold if we had had it, to have those provisions brought to us, we still had coffee, could get fresh farinha every few days. Only once we fail to buy it and substituted mandioca roots. We had no bacon - no flour, as we used the last very sparingly, making battercakes for the invalids - no fajeca and no sugar. We had been buying a common article, very dark and not clean, which was made in the neighborhood but even that could not be obtained anywhere. The Calmou gentlemen made excellent sugar and had furnished the Americans for several months, but the demand was too great for their supply and now, all, who were without, would be compelled to wait till they could receive supplies from Rio. Many of our friends were like us, waiting to find some one to send to the bar. We had nothing to eat. except for farinha and carne-secca, which was partially spoiled and smelled like sulfur and nothing to drink but coffee without milk or sugar.

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We had long since ceased to think of the first named luxury, but to be without sugar was indeed dreadful. We did not relish the farinha, as it needed the addition of beans, cooked with bacon or else a gravy from the stewed dry beef, or carne-secca. We swallowed the farinha only to keep us alive and drank the coffee to keep off a headache. The sick did not care for food, but as the fever would leave them, their appetites came and nature’s requirements could not be given to the weak and hungry. It was hard but we remembered the privations of our poor soldiers and knew that ours could not have been greater. One or two of the hens were left, and occasionally we found an egg, which was boiled, after deliberation, for the one who needed it the most. This one we knew was Mr. Spencer, who had been so long, faithful and untiring, and his strength gradually returned - so came his appetite - and every fresh egg was given to him. When he was once more able to walk a little, he was partially blind and looked so pale and weak we realized fully how very ill he had been.

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We were much rejoiced one day obtaining some sugar which our kind neighbors, the Johnson brothers had procured for us. I know they had trouble in getting it. The article was very poor, but we were very, very thankful to have it once more. On the next day, Mr. Miller sent us some fejoes or beans.

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This state of things continued, if we remember rightly, about a week when our last ducks had their throats cut by the minks. On that day, Capt. Yancey brought over half of his corn crop for our dinner. Never were people so grateful as we. Someone had succeeded in finding for us a piece of bacon or toucinha as it is called - and we made a good farinha dressing for our ducks. We really enjoyed our meal and nearly all were able to sit at the table. Sam Kerr was visiting us. He was not feeling well and we sent him a nice plate full in Mr. Spencer's room where he was laying down. He had fever and could not eat anything. Poor Sam - that was the beginning of a fearful sickness for him. He was better in the afternoon and rowed himself over to Mr. Miller’s, in a tiny little canoe, which had a sail of miniature size, which one of our girls had made for him. We tried to dissuade him from going but he said he felt quite well enough. We remember his capsizing and how nearly he had been drowned in the same little boat when the Lake was rough only a short while before and we watched him till we saw that he was safely over. His fever had not left him as he had thought. On the next day It had greatly increased and for many days he was in a state of delirium. Mr. and Mrs. Miller nursed him faithfully and tenderly, at length he became so very ill, the Physician felt sure he could not live and one of the gentlemen went to the village and had some planks sawed for his coffee, knowing that, after his death, it would be too late to order them. Contrary to expectations of all, he recovered.

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48.  Returning Health.

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There was something remarkable in the atmosphere around us. It was beyond our comprehension, that, in spite of our hardships and privations, the invalids were fast gaining strength. Chills still lingered - sometimes three or four would be lying down and the next day up and able to eat something nice, if they only had it. We wondered if it was the sea breeze and bathing. Surely, it was not from our delicate diet. Yet, roses were returning to some of the faces. Not all, for some were still very pale and thin. Mr. Spencer was gradually gaining strength and his sight almost restored.

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We had thought, that, perhaps it were wiser if all these distresses had remained untold. They may add very little interest, if it has been awakened, of our details. Some might censure us for making public family trials - but we believe most truly, that God permitted us to live, unharmed, through all this season of sickness and trial, not alone for our individual good but that there might be some benefited by our experience.

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Through the advice of friends who believed we would prosper as we tried pioneer life and found ourselves unfitted for the scenes encountered, we were enabled to bear our sufferings and privations far better than we would have expected but He who saved us through these knows we will not willingly endure them all again. If then, by these published pages, others, unfitted should be prevented from trying a rough life in a new country, we will feel that a mission was performed in acting as explorers.

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The character of our food and the general disarrangement of our systems produced some troublesome sequences, and a judicious dietary regime was required to bring us right again. We were quite conscious of this and lamenting the impossibility, when a canoe landed at the beach, bringing some of our wishful provisions. Mr. Miller had sent to the bar for his and put in his boat all that he could bring of ours. There was not room for the barrels but the sacks of rice, fajece and a package of bacon, a box of soup and a few other articles came and we rejoiced most heartily. Now, we could afford to wait quite patiently for our flour and sugar, as the little we had of the last named luxury would be made to lengthen out for some time. Much of the rice was badly damaged, but we separated the good from the bad.

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How changed, was our life in the lake, from the pleasant sociability of the first six months, when health and hope made every day delightful. The gentleman, who occasionally had chills were dispirited and unenergized. The negroes were never able, more than half at a time, to be at their work, and those who had begun their clearing and planting in such good earnest were now discouraged. Crops had failed from the unusual drought. Nothing seemed open for a future in our beautiful new settlement. Everything around was quite as lovely as when our eyes were first gladdened by the scenery – but man cannot exist on the beauties of nature, however much it may add to the pleasures of life.

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49.  New Terrors.

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Snakes were seldom seen, contrary to our expectations. The gentlemen often spoke of his rarity, as, in the tropics they supposed reptiles would be abundant.

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One morning, Reb saw a very small snake under the shelter, which he thought was a pretty plaything and took it by the tail. Seeing what he had done, we called to him instantly to drop it - but it was too late. The little snake had thrown its head around and stuck his fangs in his thumb. Mr. Spencer killed the snake and we bound moistened tobacco to the wound. Two very small punctures were seen, but we did not know how much poison might have been introduced and we were much alarmed.  - gave the little fellow a drink of cachasa and he became so intoxicated that he could not stand. Then - we began to feel uneasy - fearing we had given him too much. He laughed and tumbled around and finally went to sleep.

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We frequently unbound the thumb and found it did not swell and become inflamed and after a few hours it was quite evident that no harm whatever had come from the bite of the snake. But it was an incident and the subject of conversation with the children for several days.

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Another experience occurred, bringing an item of variety in our life, which at that time was quite monotonous. Mr. Spencer, being still weak, retired very early, but was strong enough to act as protector once more. However, we were quite fearless of dangers and never imagined such possibilities as wild beasts coming to our house as they could have done. Had they come there was only a rush mat hanging to our door and they could easily have walked in. Still, we had accustomed ourselves to believe they would only leave their den to devour our poultry and this mode of depredation they certainly understood.

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Our last turkey was carried off one night and only some of its feathers were left.  We heard the Tiger when he made the leap after we discovered the noise of distress from the turkey. The poor, lonely gobbler had sat for his roosting place, a large goods box which was outside the kitchen window on the side nearest the little lake. It was afraid to sleep in the chicken house, we suppose, and there, so very near to us, it met its unhappy fate. One after another the favorite hens and chickens were destroyed as well as the ducks which were first sacrificed. No wonder the ardor of the young people abated, who had enjoyed real pleasure in their fine prospects of a large poultry yard. No fowl house we could build, of the materials within reach, could prevent the entrance interest of these dreadful poultry thieves.

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We are forgetting the incident to which we alluded, that interrupted our usually uneventful evening. Anna, the servant, who was there cooking and washing for us, had gone home in the afternoon and did not return until late. We had only a little water and as we did not like to pass the night with such a limited supply and were unwilling to send Anna alone, we agreed to go down to the little lake with her.  Taking a candle, she marched in front with a meringo in hand. Each of us took a pitcher, following behind, in Indian file.

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The stars were shining above, but the forest covered hills rose like black walls around us and we could distinguish no object but the leaves and twigs of bushes on each side of the narrow path.

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At length, we reached the sloping sand beach. The water, smooth and dark, lay before us. Nothing was left to be done but stoop and fill our pitchers. But, just at that moment, simultaneously our olfactory senses perceived a singular odor, which was different from anything we had ever smelled before, and very powerful.

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As if by an electric movement, the instant we breathed this musky atmosphere, we turned and without dipping a drop of water, rushed in a body, back to the house, without uttering a word.

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Mr. Spencer was waked by such a rush of feet, as every one of us had gone down, and he came to his window to inquire what was the matter. His house being opposite the kitchen and as our footsteps were heard in running up the hill, he must have imagined confused things - but, we soon told him nothing had harmed us and that a strange smell had given us this fright. He consoled us by telling us it was probably an alligator or sea hog.

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Now, if our beautiful lake had been inhabited by the cayman, the immense alligators, which swallow horses and riders at a meal, there would have been more danger than pleasure in these sheets of water. But all the alligators that had been seen were not of great size – eight or ten feet, perhaps in length. Yet, these would have been sufficiently dreadful had they come near to us. While bathing, we never feared anything of the kind at the time as the water is shallow near the beach, growing deeper very gradually and the sand so white every object could be seen; just the same as on the sea-coast.

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We sometimes saw an Anta, rushing from the forest down the steep hill side into the great lake. This is a large animal of buff color and though not amphibious, seems fond of the water. It is supposed, by some, to be flying from the pursuit of some animal when it plunges in the water, swimming out to a place of safety. We did not see them more than once or twice.

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We felt quite secure when again under our shelter (or veranda), as we chose to call it. We always kept the fire burning at night to make the place more cheerful and with the belief, also, that wild animals never come very near home lights, except for poultry. We were prone to believe they would have taken a chicken from within our roof, without noticing the inmates of the house, if they had found one inside and nowhere else.

Suspense.

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A voice of genuine joy was very to explain one afternoon. “I am so glad. So glad. Pa is coming.”

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The dear child was running almost breathlessly towards us and we met, in the front walk that leads to the beach.   We saw the figure of a gentleman coming on behind, but we could see at a glance it was not “The Father”, but we welcomed, nevertheless, the refined and pleasant face of Dr. Johnson, who advanced and finished the sentence, to the many now listening, but to “The Mother” in particular. “Two gentlemen were not put off at the bar, yesterday from the steamer - so Mr. Gunter tells us. They were supposed to be your husband and his brother, as they are expected, and both were recognized as Americans.

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Oh!, this was welcome news -  Nothing was then of our ills. We were all very, very happy. The invalids, who were fast Improving grew brighter and stronger at this intelligence, and we felt, as we had not, for a long time, that we possessed a home. We would make it as pleasant as possible for the coming of the dear ones. We looked for them with certainty the third day after the message came, for, with the slowest poling, the trip to Linhares, upstream, was two days unless the canoes were loaded. This would probably be the case as Joanna, our cook, would be along with her baggage, and the provisions still at the bar would be brought up, we were quite sure. Sickness among the natives had abated, so they could obtain Comaradoes to pole the boat.

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Days passed by -two – three – four – five. Every moment of each day hung heavily after the third was gone. Our hearts were aching with suspense. Our friends came up every day or two from Linhares, but none could bring us any news, or explain the mystery of the two Americans who were said to have landed from the steamer on the bar.

There were numerous conjectures as to why they did not arrive if they had landed at the bar. Some thought it was all a mistake, that it might have been two Brazilians who had come ashore and gone to their homes near the mouth of the river - but the natives, who brought the intelligence, said they were recognized (from where they saw them) as Americans. We only waited and the hours and days seemed longer to us than to anyone else, for our imaginations magnified every possible harm that might have happened to them.

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After our dreary suppers were over, all the family, each evening, walked down to the beach and under the light of the pitying heavens and by the murmur of the moving waters, we sent our griefs and complaints to God. “Why? Why hast thou forsaken us?” We said - in bitterness of soul. Why are we here and thus tried?”

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The lashing waves beat cold replies and the mute stare shone mockingly upon us. Only the whip-poor-will seemed to join in sympathy with the sad and burdened souls, that were bearing so quietly their sorrow.

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Once more we went down - once more and once more. The grief grew deeper. There were no words that could tell to each other how much anxiety we bore.

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The waters again made dirgeful music to which we listened. The crescent moon appeared above the highest hill, with a brilliant planet near its lowest point. In times past, these nightly pictures were very beautiful, but now all was dark, dreary and hopeless.

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With our hands held behind our ears - our elbows on our knees, we remained seated for hours on the sand - listening for the dipping of oars. At times we would start toward our feet, believing a canoe was near - some other sound had deceived our ears. Occasionally, one appeared - our hearts beat wild with expectation and the figure of only a native would pass before us as the boat glided by.

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For two, long dreadful weeks, we continued this watching and waiting and often in hours, long past midnight, we would find ourselves seated on the front door sill, looking towards the water and listening for canoes. While the night birds sang their accustomed songs and crickets chirped their shrill and mocking notes, a louder sound at times broke the monotony of these and had we not known so well its meaning, might have been filled with terror. Crashing – rumbling – breaking – crashing again. Reports, like the continued echoes of guns – rumbling, breaking, crashing again. These noises were produced by the falling of one tree in the forest, which, as it fell, brought down other trees, so thickly growing, is the “impenetrable jungle” on the hills.

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All this, in the heavy hours of night, came solemnly, dismally to our ears, but nothing like the this made us tremble or shiver. We had grown accustomed to all sounds of the wild woods, and our thoughts were wholly and entirely with the absent.

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God was with us still - in the midst of this agonizing suspense, or reason would have been unthroned. Mind was verging very near that chaotic gulf, and we sometimes think would have gone down, if another day of such intense anxiety had followed.

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50.  The Return.

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God be praised, that, ere it came, our sorrow was turned into joy and the frozen tears which had chilled our hearts unto despair were melted. The glow of happiness within overspread the household could never have been equaled. The absent ones returned. We had our arms around them and felt it was not a dream but a glad reality.

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They had come from Rio, not on the steamer as was supposed, but on Oliviera’s schooner, and headwinds had kept them out thirteen days. Messrs. Freligh, Wharton and Seymour came with them to visit the lake and the country above.

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Our cook, Joanna, had arrived, our barrels of sugar and flour came also. The sugar was the finest quality, and we made some mandioca doce for dinner. How we did enjoy the preparation of meals. Joanna was installed and we found she knew how to cook and was very neat. Before many days had passed, she became sick with the fever and we nursed her for about a week. We feared she would die, but the wonderful air at the Doce, which could both make sick and cure restored her and she was soon quite well again.

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This was said to be an unprecedented season. Hot, dry weather following months of rain. The waters which usually receded gradually during the space of nine months with gentle summer rains constantly falling, had rapidly gone back, leaving the streams now lately swollen, entirely dry. This might never occur again, but the Americans were nearly all discouraged and making preparations to leave the Doce. Those who had brought negroes for farming were most anxious to leave, and they were having chills and generally disabled. This was a sad disappointment to those colonists who had in the first days of the settlement been so encouraged by their prospects and increase. Some of Mr. Roussell's negroes died. His plantation or fazenda was on the river.

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Our friends in the village did not escape. Mr. Gunter and Maj. McIntyre’s family had sickness. All the Brazilians too. And yet, there were no deaths from fevers among the Americans. Those who died were not made sick from Miasma – perhaps, If the colony had not broken up and these same causes had never returned, our settlement might have become just what we, at first, hoped and expected. But very few felt willing to remain and run the risk.

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In our family, there was only one who grieved at giving up the Doce. “The Father” who was most bitterly disappointed. He had made a beginning for his home and in another year would have had many comforts. All his hopes were visions of a coffee fazenda – orchards of fruit etc., were gone and his only alternative now was to remove us at once to Rio and practice his profession, as his young partner was already well established and gaining the confidence of the Brazilians.

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During the period of our stay on the lake, we enjoyed trips on the water in the beautiful little sailboat which was the only one in the country, not a dugout or canoe. It distressed us to think of giving this up. The girls now had an opportunity to visit in comfortable style. They went to see their friends who lived at the greatest distance - knowing they had a boat which could bear them safely over the waves when the lake was mighty rough. They enjoyed very much their visits to Alabamians and others. They said it seemed a pity to have the colony broken up when some were so comfortable. Dr. and Mrs. Farley were still as much in love with the lake as ever. Sickness in their family had not yet come – though, it did after a while. Dr. Farley and Mr. Miller intended to stay, though no one wondered, as they had been so much blessed.

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51.  Last Visit to Mrs. Miller.

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Mr. M. had only had chills in his family now and then, But before six months, they too had become worn out, disappointed from sickness and failures in their plans and then abandoned, the Doce. Dr. Farley’s mill was never put in operation.

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One pleasant morning it was agreed that “The Father and Mother” should cross the lake on a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Ma found on that beautiful location, such evidence of industry and energy as wonderful. Only nine months of labor and they had a home with every comfort around them. It is true the floors were of earth, but the house was very pleasant and full, the yard well beaten and smooth as if they were old settlers.

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The prospect from their doors were grand and must have been a daily joy. Mandioca was in a flourishing condition. Drought had no effect upon this growth and everyone raises it abundantly. It requires no trouble – a dry stick, cut from the bush, laid lengthwise slantingly comes up a flourishing bush, and at six months the roots are ready to be ground into farinha. The easy manner of cultivating this valuable root is a great inducement to the natives to indulge their ease, knowing they need never be without an abundance of their “staff of life”.

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Our housekeeping had become once more, a pleasure. Our kitchen and dining room - which were the same, wore a more cheerful aspect with good meals on the table, with happy smiling faces around it. We used our sugar extravagantly - making doces every day. We took great delight in again, having our light bread for which all enjoyed after being without so long.

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But we did not love the place now - there were too many drawbacks. The bicho had become much worse during the dry weather and gave the children much trouble. Every night they had to bear the worry and pain of having them extracted.

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Some believe that with great care and cleanliness, the bicho would not be troublesome, but this was a mistake, as the children who suffered most went much of the time in water, bathing or wading every day. The luxury of the baths we never denied ourselves when able to walk to the Lake.

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The Bichos, generated in the clay on the hillside, but are too small to be seen until they get in the feet. There the children love to play. They called the place which had been dug out, for daubing, their cave.

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We return once more to the old Journal, which was, during the last days on the Lake, very irregularly kept.

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April 20th.

What a change in our lives and our feelings since Father has returned! And, how we have enjoyed this visit of our uncle! But we feel sorry to hear that he will leave soon. He is one of the disappointed, also. His bright dream in the house on the Doce are ended and all our plans of having his dear family as neighbors are gone.  He came just in time to find the Americans disheartened and nearly every one making ready to leave. If that steamer, promised by the government, had been given to us, the colony would not break up - they would try one more year. This is what the gentlemen say. We have not been treated well.

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Mr. Gunter seems to have succeeded in his crop. His plantation or fazenda is on the river. He is a year ahead of all the other settlers and though he has had sickness too. He does not think the fever will return and he expects to remain. He has sent us some very fine water melons and Kershaws (a type of squash) and some of the finest sweet potatoes I have I ever seen. They are immense. Now, if all the Americans were as well fixed and had as many comforts as he has, it would be hard to leave. But we are going and I am glad of it. I long to see the great city of Rio again. How much pleasure is in store for us!

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April 28.

We have been so very busy with our packing that I am always too tired in the evening to say anything to my journal. And yet, I do not want to neglect it. I might have added a great deal, but I shall have a new zeal when we make our move. I look forward with pleasure to our journey.

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Dr. and Capt. Johnson and Ruland Freligh left a day or two since and our uncle went in company with them. We have been very sad since he left, for we fear we will never see him anymore; feeling quite sure that he is dissatisfied with this country. We still hope though, that he may find a place near Rio that he likes and return again with his family. We will be so happy then in that delightful city. I wish we were already there.