or savages; and as he thought upon their low
and debased condition he recalled to mind the remark of his old friend
the hermit,--"They want the Bible in Brazil."

During his frequent rambles in the neighbourhood of the Indian village,
Martin discovered many beautiful and retired spots, to which he was in
the habit of going in the evenings after his daily labours were
accomplished, accompanied, as usual, at a respectful distance, by his
vigilant friend the tall savage. One of his favourite resting-places
was at the foot of a banana-tree, which grew on the brow of a stupendous
cliff, about a mile distant from the hut, in which he dwelt. From this
spot he had a commanding view of the noble valley and the distant
mountains. These mountains now seemed to the poor boy to be the
ponderous gates of his beautiful prison; for he had been told by one of
his Indian friends that on the other side of them were great campos and
forests, beyond which dwelt many Portuguese, while still further on was
a great lake without shores, which was the end of the world. This,
Martin was convinced, must be the Atlantic Ocean; for, upon inquiry, he
found that many months of travel must be undergone ere it could be
reached. Moreover, he knew that it could not be the Pacific, because
the sun rose in that direction.

Sauntering away to his favourite cliff, one fine evening towards sunset
he seated himself beneath the banana-tree and gazed longingly at the
distant mountains, whose sharp summits glittered in the ruddy glow. He
had long racked his brain in order to devise some method of escape, but
hitherto without success. Wherever he went the "shadow" followed him,
armed with the deadly blow-pipe; and he knew that even if he did succeed
in eluding his vigilance and escaping into the woods, hundreds of
savages would turn out and track him, with unerring certainty, to any
hiding place. Still the strength of his stern determination sustained
him; and, at each failure in his efforts to devise some means of
effecting his purpose, he threw off regret with a deep sigh, and
returned to his labour with a firmer step, assured that he should
eventually succeed.

As he sat there on the edge of the precipice, he said, half aloud, "What
prevents me from darting suddenly on that fellow and knocking him down?"

This was a question that might have been easily answered. No doubt he
was physically capable of coping with the man, for he had now been
upwards o