Martin Rattler, R. M. Ballantyne [mystery books to read TXT] 📗

of the blessed word of God. He soon resolved to forsake the priesthood. But when he had done so, he knew not what to turn his hand to. He had no one like-minded to consult with, and he felt that it was wrong to eat the bread of idleness. Being thus uncertain what to do, he resolved in the meantime to carry goods into the interior of the country, and offer them for sale. The land round his dwelling and his own gun would supply him with food; and for the rest, he would spend his time in the study of the Bible, and seek for more light and direction from God.

“Such,” continued the hermit, “is a slight sketch of the history of my country and of myself.”

“Yourself?” exclaimed Martin.

“Yes. I am the Padre Caramuru, or rather I was. I am Padre no longer, but Senhor Carlos Caramuru, a merchant. Yet I know not what to do. When I look round upon my country, and see how they know not the precious word of God, my heart burns in me, and I sometimes think that it is my duty to go forth and preach.”

“No doubt ye are right,” said Barney. “I’ve always bin of opinion that when a man feels very strong in his heart on any partic’lar subject it’s a sure sign that the Almighty intends him to have something more to do with that subject than other men who don’t feel about it at all.”

The hermit remained silent for a few minutes. “I think you are right, friend,” he said; “but I am very ignorant yet. I have no one to explain difficulties to me; and I fear to go about preaching, lest I should preach what is not true. I will study yet for a time, and pray. After that perhaps, I may go forth.”

“But you have told us nothing yet about the trade of the country,” said Martin, “or its size, or anything of that sort.”

“I will soon tell you of that, when I have lighted another cigar. This one does not draw well. Have you got a full pipe still, my friend?”

“All right, Mr Carrymooroo,” replied Barney, knocking out the ashes. “I’ll jist load wance more, and then,—fire away.”

In a few minutes the big cigar and short pipe were in full play, and the hermit continued:—

“This country is very large and very rich, but it is not well worked. The people are lazy, many of them, and have not much enterprise. Much is done, no doubt; but very much more might be done.

“The empire of Brazil occupies nearly one half of the whole continent of South America. It is 2600 miles long, and 2500 miles broad; which, as you know perhaps, is a little larger than all Europe. The surface of the country is beautiful and varied. The hilly regions are very wild, although none of the mountains are very high, and the woods are magnificent; but a great part of the land consists of vast grassy plains, which are called llanos, or campos, or silvas. The campos along the banks of the River Amazon are equal to six times the size of France; and there is one great plain which lies between the Sierra Ibiapaba and the River Tocantins which is 600 miles long by 400 miles broad. There are very few lakes in Brazil, and only one worth speaking of—the Lagoa dos Platos—which is 150 miles long. But our rivers are the finest in the whole world, being so long, and wide, and deep, and free from falls, that they afford splendid communication with the interior of the land. But alas! there are few ships on these rivers yet, very few. The rivers in the north part of Brazil are so numerous and interlaced that they are much like the veins in the human body; and the great River Amazon and a few of its chief tributaries resemble the arteries.

“Then as to our produce,” continued the hermit, “who can tell it all? We export sugar, and coffee, and cotton, and gold, silver, lead, zinc, quicksilver, and amethysts, and we have diamond mines—”

“Di’mond mines!” echoed Barney; “och, but I would like for to see them. Sure they would sparkle most beautiful. Are they far off, Mr Carrymooroo?”

“Yes, very far off. Then we export dye-woods, and cabinet-woods, and drugs, and gums, and hides,—a great many hides, for the campos are full of wild cattle, and men hunt them on horseback, and catch them with a long rope called the lasso.”

“How I should like to have a gallop over these great plains,” murmured Martin.

“Then we have,” continued the hermit, “rice, tapioca, cocoa, maize, wheat, mandioca, beans, bananas, pepper, cinnamon, oranges, figs, ginger, pine-apples, yams, lemons, mangoes, and many other fruits and vegetables. The mandioca you have eaten in the shape of farina. It is very good food; one acre gives as much nutriment as six acres of wheat.

“Of the trees you have seen something. There are thousands of kinds, and most magnificent. Some of them are more than thirty feet round about. There are two hundred different kinds of palms, and so thick stand the giant trees in many places, with creeping-plants growing between, that it is not possible for man to cut his way through the forests in some parts. Language cannot describe the grandeur and glory of the Brazilian forests.

“We have numbers of wild horses, and hogs, and goats; and in the woods are tiger-cats, jaguars, tapirs, hyenas, sloths, porcupines, and—but you have seen many things already. If you live you will see more. I need not tell you of these things; very soon I will show you some.

“The population of my country consists of the descendants of Portuguese settlers, native Indians, and Negroes. Of the latter, some are free, some slaves. The Indians go about nearly naked. Most of them are in a savage state: they paint their skins, and wear gaudy ornaments. The religion of the country is Roman Catholic, but all religions are tolerated; and I have much hope for the future of Brazil, in spite of the priests.”

“And do ye git much out o’ the di’mond mines?” inquired Barney, whose mind was running on this subject.

“O yes, a great deal. Every year many are got, and Government gets one-fifth of the value of all the gold and diamonds found in the country. One diamond was found a short time ago which was worth 40,000 pounds.”

“Ye don’t say so!” exclaimed Barney in great surprise, as he blew an immense cloud of smoke from his lips. “Now, that’s extror’nary. Why don’t everybody go to the mines and dig up their fortin at wance?”

“Because men cannot eat diamonds,” replied the hermit gravely.

“Troth, I niver thought o’ that; ye’re right.”

Martin laughed heartily as he lay in his hammock and watched his friend’s expression while pondering this weighty subject.

“Moreover,” resumed the hermit, “you will be surprised to hear that diamond and gold finding is not the most profitable employment in the country.

“The man who cultivates the ground is better off than anybody. It, is a fact a very great fact, a fact that you should get firmly fixed in your memory—that in less than two years the exports of sugar and coffee amounted to more than the value of all the diamonds found in eighty years. Yes, that is true. But the people of Brazil are not well off. They have everything that is necessary to make a great nation; but we are not a great nation, far from it.” The hermit sighed deeply as he ceased speaking, and fell into an abstracted frame of mind.

“It’s a great country intirely,” said Barney, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and placing that much-loved implement carefully in his pocket; “a great country, but there’s a tremendous big screw loose somewhere.”

“It seems curious to me,” said Martin, in a ruminating tone of voice, “that people should not get on better in a country, in which there is everything that man can desire, to make him rich and happy. I wonder what it wants; perhaps it’s too hot and the people want energy of character.”

“Want energy!” shouted the hermit leaping from his seat, and regarding his guests for a few moments with a stern expression of countenance; then, stretching forth his hand, he continued, in an excited tone: “Brazil does not want energy; it has only one want,—it wants the Bible! When a country is sunk down in superstition and ignorance and moral depravity, so that the people know not right from wrong, there is only one cure for her,—the Bible. Religion here is a mockery and a shame; such as, if it were better known, would make the heathen laugh in scorn. The priests are a curse to the land, not a blessing. Perhaps they are better in other lands,—I know not; but well I know they are, many of them, false and wicked here. No truth is taught to the people,—no Bible is read in their ears; religion is not taught,—even morality is not taught; men follow the devices and desires of their own hearts, and there is no voice raised to say, ‘You are doing wrong.’ My country is sunk very low; and she cannot hope to rise, for the word of her Maker is not in her hand. True, there are a few, a very few Bibles in the great cities; but that is all: that cannot save her hundreds of towns and villages. Thousands of her people are slaves in body,—all, all are slaves in soul; and yet you ask me what she wants. Ha! she wants truth, she wants to be purged of falsehood. She has bones and muscles, and arteries and veins,—everything to make a strong and healthy nation; but she wants blood,—she has no vital stream; yes, Brazil, my country, wants the Bible!”