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Updated: April 30, 2025
It was absolutely essential that Mac should put in one more appearance at the bank. It was an ordeal, but one he had to undergo. He even dreaded to return to his hotel, but go he must; so, just before the bank closed, he called in and casually informed the manager that he should start the next morning for S. Romao, a town in the interior of Brazil, to be absent a week.
The semi-civilised Indians respected old Romao, and he had, consequently, a great number in his employ in different parts of the river his vessels were always filled quicker with produce than those of his neighbours. On our leaving, he placed his house and store at my disposal.
I found only one person at Ega, my old friend Romao de Oliveira, who recollected, or had any knowledge of this important time, when a numerous staff of astronomers, surveyors, and draughtsmen, explored much of the surrounding country with large bodies of soldiers and natives.
Sending the driver up to the office on the second floor, Mac soon appeared and informed him that he had promised to take to the station a man who was stopping at the hotel. "He is going to S. Romao by the same train," continued Mac, "and seems a good fellow, for I had a long talk with him last night."
Senor Chrysostomo had, at this time, 200 of the Japura Indians in his employ. He was half Indian himself, but was a far worse master to the redskins than the whites usually are. We finished our rounds by paying our respects to a venerable native merchant, Senor Romao de Oliveira, a tall, corpulent, fine-looking old man, who received us with a naive courtesy quite original in its way.
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