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Updated: June 7, 2025
It would be difficult to depict what every one felt when Joam Garral and Torres disappeared. What could there be in common between the adventurer and the honest fazender of Iquitos? The menace of some frightful misfortune seemed to hang over the whole family, and they scarcely dared speak to each other.
Such is Manaos, which, for the benefit of the reader, it was necessary to sketch. Here the voyage of the giant raft, so tragically interrupted, had just come to a pause in the midst of its long journey, and here will be unfolded the further vicissitudes of the mysterious history of the fazender of Iquitos.
They could ascend the Rio Negro, enter the canal, and, crossing the waste land, remain concealed throughout the night under the tall vegetation on the banks. But once on board, where was Joam Dacosta to seek refuge? To return to Iquitos was to follow a road full of difficulties and peril, and a long one in any case, should the fugitive either travel across the country or by the river.
Although the honest man suffered acutely, he might still have remained hidden in exile at Iquitos, and still have asked for time to smother the remembrances of the horrible occurrence, but something was urging him to act in the matter without delay. In fact, before Yaquita had spoken to him, Joam Dacosta had noticed that Manoel was in love with his daughter.
But why? What's his lay, d'ye s'pose?" "Perhaps José knows," suggested Knowlton. "But he's in no shape to talk now. Let's see. Schwandorf said he was going to Iquitos?" "Yes, but that doesn't mean anything." "Probably not. Well, maybe José can explain." There were some things, however, which José could not have told if he would, for he himself did not know them.
But poor Fragoso, abandoned and miserable, having eaten nothing for forty hours, astray in the forest, had for an instant lost his head, and we know the rest. "My friend," said Benito to him, "you will go back with us to the fazenda of Iquitos?" "With pleasure," replied Fragoso; "you cut me down and I belong to you. I must somehow be dependent."
For fifty years Padre Passanha had lived at Iquitos, in the mission of which he was the chief. He was loved by all, and worthily so. The Garral family held him in great esteem; it was he who had married the daughter of Farmer Magalhaes to the clerk who had been received at the fazenda.
Iquitos, like every other collection of huts, hamlet, or village met with in the basin of the Upper Amazon, was founded by the missionaries. Up to the seventeenth year of the century the Iquito Indians, who then formed the entire population, were settled in the interior of the province at some distance from the river.
The important commercial negotiations, ably managed by Benito, were carried through under the best of conditions, and soon of what had formed this jangada that is to say, the huge raft of timber constructed from an entire forest at Iquitos there remained not a trace.
"I have come from the neighborhood of Iquitos." "So have I!" exclaimed Fragoso. "I have come down the Amazon from Iquitos to Tabatinga. May I ask your name?" "No objection at all," replied the stranger. "My name is Torres."
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